


In Search of Elysium

by chaoticTransmissions



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Overstimulation, Past Abuse, Praise Kink, Secret Organizations, Threesome, Violence, mechanic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-02-27 15:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18741925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticTransmissions/pseuds/chaoticTransmissions
Summary: Fleeing an abusive ex, Darcy Lewis finds herself stuck in the middle of nowhere when her car breaks down. As the owners of the only garage and rest stop for miles, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are her sole source of refuge. Caught between her need to flee and her growing desire, can Darcy heal their hearts as well as her own?





	1. Acheron

“No!” Darcy Lewis exclaimed, kicking the steering consul above her feet for the third time in an hour. The AC only coughed, spewing out stale, dry air. Even with both the windows rolled down, it was boiling inside the car. Beneath her, the engine gave a suspicious rattling sound.

“No, no, no!” Despite Darcy’s pleas, Mew Mew began to slow. Black smoke spewed from beneath the hood. “Oh, you poor thing.” Darcy wasn’t sure if she was talking about the car or herself. She barely managed to pull onto the shoulder of the road before the engine gave one last gasp and died completely.

Darcy patted the wheel consolingly. It was like comforting an old friend. Mew Mew was a parting gift from Thor, one of Darcy’s closest friends. It had been his car up until a few days ago. Darcy had many fond memories of Mew Mew. She, Thor and his girlfriend Jane (Darcy’s best friend) had driven almost everywhere in it: campfires, road trips, and late night drive-throughs among many other destinations.

Mew Mew got old, however, so Thor had bought a newer model two years ago. Mew Mew had been sitting in his garage collecting dust ever since. Thor had even been considering scrapping the car, much to Darcy’s horror. Then Darcy had shown up on his doorstep looking for a getaway vehicle and now Mew Mew was her’s.

Now here Darcy was, stranded on a desert road with not so much as a spare tire. Not that a spare tire would help whatever was wrong with the engine.“It’s not your fault girl,” Darcy soothed. “You did your best.” Really, Darcy ought to have seen it coming with how old the car was. Especially given how shittily her year had been going.

When Darcy pulled her phone out of her back pocket, she was dismayed to find not a hint of cell service.

Darcy climbed out of the car, staring down either side of the road. The sun beat down on her shoulders. There wasn’t another car in sight, or much of anything for the matter, besides a few cacti. Darcy clamored back into the car. She refused to cry. She hadn’t survived as much as she had just to break down over a little car trouble.

Darcy leaned back in her seat and stared at herself in the rearview mirror. She was as thin and tired as a ghost. A week of sleeping in the back of a car and surviving off of gas station food would do that to a person. She probably smelled like sweat and air freshener. Trucker showers weren’t exactly the height of luxury. Her hair was practically a lost cause.

“We’ll wait for a car to come,” Darcy murmured to Mew Mew, knowing it would take a while. She was in the middle of the Nevada desert, away from booming Vegas and its drought-stricken burbs. Here it was just empty road, stretching on for miles.

As minute after minute passed, Darcy began to worry. She’d been hoping that a family on vacation would drive past and give her a ride to civilization, but nobody came. She popped open all four doors just so she didn’t feel like she was suffocating in the heat. Just when Darcy thought she’d boil to death, the distant sound of an engine sent her scrambling out of the car.

As she waved frantically at the approaching car, Darcy briefly considered the fact that she was a woman alone in the middle of nowhere, flagging down a stranger. In a floral romper that didn’t hide much of the girls, nonetheless. In Darcy’s defense, it was summer in Nevada.

Checking that her lucky taser was still in its place on the passenger seat, Darcy relaxed a little. After everything she’d gone through, she knew better than to travel without a weapon. She’d also attended several of her friend Nat’s self-defense classes.

The car came flying down the road, kicking up dust in its wake. It was a fairly nice car, promising air conditioning and perhaps reclinable seats. Darcy would have preferred it was a minivan full of children in front of which she couldn’t get murdered, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The light of the windshield shone brightly in Darcy’s eyes as the car barreled toward… and then right past her.

Darcy’s mouth dropped open. “Hey!” She yelled after the departing vehicle. “I’m in the middle of nowhere, here! Come back you bastard!” It was no use. The vehicle was gone. Darcy slumped against the car door, then yelped when the hot metal singed her skin. She could not get back inside it. She’d sweat to death before another car came along.

It was time to stop waiting around and start taking action. Hadn’t Darcy seen a ‘gas station ahead sign’ a few miles back? There had to be one somewhere up the road. Or, at the very least, a cell tower from which she could call a tow truck.

Resolving herself to the necessity, Darcy slathered herself up in sunscreen and locked the car doors behind her. There was no telling how long she’d be walking and there was no need to turn into a lobster while she did it. Darcy hadn’t made it through years in the sunbelt without burning to give it all up now.

The walk seemed to stretch on forever. Heat glimmered at Darcy off the asphalt of a horizon that never seemed to draw any nearer. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She realized too late that she’d left her water bottle in the car and had been walking for far too long to go back for it. It would be boring if it weren’t so exhausting. Darcy at least had the presence of mind to write down the mile marker Mew Mew was parked at so she could tell the tow truck where to go.

Finally, in the distance, Darcy spotted an outcropping of buildings that she assumed was a rest stop. Ignoring the cramping in her legs, she picked up the pace. The gas station Darcy had seen was getting closer with every step. At least she wasn’t sweating anymore, though oddly the heat hadn’t lessened.

As she got closer, Darcy could see that there was a mechanic’s garage attached to the gas station. _Thank the Gods_. A few hundred feet away, behind a tall stucco fence, Darcy could see the upper stories of a house.

Breathing weakly, Darcy made her way up to the gas station door. Relief washed over her as she opened the door and was hit with a wave of AC. It felt like heaven. Darcy cleared her parched throat. The first thing she was doing was buying herself a water bottle. Maybe five.

The bell above the door chimed noisily and the cashier looked up at Darcy as she stepped inside. Darcy caught her breath as the man smiled at her. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting from the clerk, but it sure wasn’t eyes bluer than the desert sky attached to over six feet of pure muscle.

“Afternoon,” the man greeted. He spoke in a Northern dialect that Darcy couldn’t quite place, though it definitely wasn’t local. Darcy stood partway through the door, staring at him stupidly. She knew it was rude, but her head felt like it was full of cotton.

The clerk scanned Darcy again, frowning this time. When he stood up, Darcy could see that his name tag read ‘Steve’. _He looks like a Steve. Very all American_ , Darcy thought. “Are you alright, miss?”

Darcy nodded, taking a shaky step into the store. “My car broke down a few miles back. I’m just a bit out of breath from the walk.” Out of breath and light headed. Now that she’d stopped walking, Darcy’s calves were starting to seize. She must be dehydrated. Walking that distance wouldn’t cause this level of strain otherwise.

Steve set down the book he’d been reading, looking concerned. Darcy realized with some mixture of admiration and amusement that it was Grapes of Wrath. Was that his idea of light reading? “That’s happened to a few folks before,” Steve said. “A few miles you said? Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should sit down.”

Darcy looked around the small convenience store. There was nowhere to sit beside the chair behind the counter. Seemingly realizing this, Steve sprang up out of his chair. “You can borrow mine, miss.” Oh lord, he was too sweet to handle.

Darcy waved him back down. He was as clean cut as he looked. If he had a Southern drawl, Darcy would peg him for a farmer’s kid. “Easy, dude. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll survive. I saw a mechanic shop next door. I don’t suppose they tow?”

“Of course,” Steve said. He was still hovering awkwardly in his seat, ready to give it up to Darcy at any moment. Darcy walked toward the row of refrigerators. They were the old kind, pastel in color and rounded at the corners. She grabbed a bottle of aspirin along the way. Her head had started to pound.

“My boyfriend is the mechanic here. He’s in the shower right now, but when he gets back he’ll tow your car out here and take a look.” _He’s gay_ , Darcy realized, with no small amount of disappointment. _Or at least taken_. It was just her luck, really. She took a long drag of the water bottle and by the time she got it to the counter, it was empty.

In Darcy’s haste, some of the water had soaked the front of her (already damp) top. Steve, either because he truly was a gentleman or because he couldn’t care less what Darcy was packing, didn’t glance below her jaw even once. Darcy set the empty bottle on the counter with shaky hands.

“I would appreciate that.” Darcy fumbled for her wallet with fingers that wouldn’t seem to work. Gods, she was exhausted. “I’ll just wait… just wait… out here.” Before Darcy knew it, she was slumped against the counter.

Steve jumped over the barrier in an instant, catching her deftly. His skin was cool against her own and Darcy sighed dazedly. Steve cursed quietly to himself and Darcy got the feeling it wasn’t an indulgence he allowed himself often.

Steve placed a cold hand against Darcy’s forehead. “You’re burning up.” Darcy tried to tell him everything was fine, but the words were hard to get out. “Heat exhaustion, probably. I should have realized earlier.”

Darcy shook her head at the handsome stranger. It wasn’t his fault that she got herself stranded in the desert and collapsed into his arms. His very unavailable arms. “What’s your name, Miss?”

“Darcy Lewis,” Darcy slurred.

“That’s a nice name.” Steve shifted his stance so that he could swing Darcy’s arm over his shoulder. When it became clear that wasn’t going to work, he simply swept Darcy into his arms. It was like a romance novel, except he was probably gay and Darcy was pretty sure her head was going to explode.

Steve began to walk toward the back door. “Come on, Darcy, you need to lie down. I’ll take you to my house.” Even in her delirium, Darcy tensed a little at this.

“What if you try and murder serial me? I mean serial murder me?” She hadn’t even brought her taser. Instead of laughing at Darcy’s stumble, Steve only looked more concerned.

“Darcy, you need medical care. You’re already stranded in the middle of nowhere without a car. If I wanted to hurt you or murder you, I would have done it already.” Darcy nodded slowly at this. It made sense. Still, she leveled a warning gaze at Steve as he carried her out the door and toward the house.

“If you murder and cannibalize me, there will be a Netflix documentary about you! And it will make you look really, really creepy.” Finally, Steve chuckled, though his arms around her were still tight.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Somehow, Steve managed to maneuver open the gate and the front door while still holding Darcy. The gate had an electronic keypad and there were security cameras on the porch and several deadbolts on the door.

Either Steve and his boyfriend were actually serial killers, or they just valued their security a lot. Darcy couldn’t say she blamed them.

As soon as the door opened, a tiny ball of fur came running up to Steve and started winding through his legs. Darcy cooed at the cat delightedly. Its patterning made it look like a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream. “Bucky!” Steve called into the depths of the house.

There was a moment of silence before Bucky, who Darcy presumed was Steve’s boyfriend, yelled back. “Yeah, Stevie?”

“Are you still in the shower?” Miraculously, Steve managed to maneuver his way around the affectionate cat without tripping or dropping Darcy.

“Just got out, why?” Darcy could hear things clattering against a countertop.

“We have company.” The clattering stopped. “The friendly kind. Come down when you get a moment.” Bucky yelled an affirmation and the clattering resumed. Darcy wondered what ‘unfriendly’ visitors these men had dealt with in the past.

Steve carried Darcy toward a room but paused outside the door. “Would you be more comfortable in the guest bed or--” Darcy shook her head immediately. Sleeping in a stranger’s bed, even while she was ill, even if it was just a guest bed, felt like a definite overstep. She already felt uncomfortable enough.

“Can I just lay on the couch?” Darcy asked hopefully. Steve nodded reluctantly.

“If that’s how you’d be most comfortable.” He looked like he’d been about to offer her the entire house if she wanted it. Darcy didn’t think men like this existed. Outside of Thor, at least.

The couch was a massive, leather sectional that Darcy sunk into with a happy sigh as soon as Steve set her on it. It was the comfiest sofa she had ever been on. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some water and a cold cloth.”

Steve hurried out of the room like he was worried Darcy would die in his absence. Darcy chuckled weakly. He was about as calm a caretaker as Jane was. A moment after Steve left, a tiny ball of fur leaped onto Darcy's chest and began to knead at her romper.

“Careful,” Darcy chuckled, as tiny claws skirted her collar bone. “I don’t have fur to protect my skin like you do.” After a moment, the cat curled up against Darcy's chest and began to purr.

Darcy petted the creature weakly behind the ears. “Dutch,” a raspy voice scolded from behind her. “Don’t scratch the lady.” Darcy crammed her neck backward and found herself staring up at another gorgeous man.

His eyes bore into her like blue fire and his dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail from his face. One of his arms was missing. He had a prosthetic one, possibly bionic, in its place. This must be Bucky. “Hi,” Darcy whispered.

Bucky said nothing. He watched her suspiciously. Not to be caught staring at his arm or his broodingly handsome face, Darcy looked back down at the cat, Dutch, apparently. “How old is he?”

“She’s six. Dutch is short for Dutchess.”

Darcy scratched the cat under the chin and received a sandpapery kiss for her troubles. “She’s small for six.”

“She was the runt of the litter,” Bucky said simply. He seemed to be a man of few words. At least around strangers.

“You must be wondering why I’m in your house, huh? Funny story. I was in your gas station, just feeling a bit tired” Darcy explained. “Steve is being nice, so he offered me a place to rest, but I’m okay really. I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“You’re more than ‘a bit tired.” Steve had re-emerged with a handful of damp cloths and a glass of ice water. He turned to Bucky. “She has heat exhaustion. Her car broke down so she had to walk here. She practically collapsed in the store.”

“Why didn’t you call a tow?” Bucky asked, not unkindly, as Steve helped Darcy sit up to drink. Darcy glared at him and mumbled into the cup, “because there’s no cellular out here, grumpy. My name is Darcy, by the way. Since you didn’t bother to ask.”

A surprised guaff left Steve. Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How far did you walk, _Darcy_?”

“My car’s at mile marker 132.” At this, both Steve and Bucky seemed surprised. It was the first glimpse of actual emotion she had seen out of the later.

“That’s a long walk, Darcy. No wonder you’re suffering from the heat.” Satisfied that she’d drunk enough water, Steve let Darcy return to the soft couch. When he put a cool cloth over her forehead, Darcy actually moaned.

Shifting awkwardly, Steve took a step back. “You were pretty out of it a few minutes ago. You nearly fainted. I should call a doctor.

Darcy tensed, opening her eyes from where they had drifted shut. “No doctors, please.” Steve and Bucky traded looks.

“Miss Lewis…”

Darcy reached out and grasped Bucky’s metal hand. It was stupid since he seemed to dislike her, but he was the only one in reach. He flinched for a moment, then looked down at where their limbs met in shock.“I’ll be okay. Pinky promise.”

After staring her down for a moment, Bucky nodded slowly. When Darcy released his hand, he shoved it abruptly back into his pocket. Had she not been completely out of it, Darcy would have been hurt. Which was stupid. Why did she care if this near stranger didn’t want her touch?

“Alright. I’ll hold off for now, but if your condition gets any worse, I’m calling a doctor.” Steve’s tone was stern and Darcy could almost picture a ‘young lady’ tacked on at the end. She shivered.

“Okie dokie.” Darcy let her eyes close again. Dutch was still purring away happily on top of her. Before she knew it, Darcy was asleep.

\---

When Darcy woke, the cat was gone, but Steve was still sitting by her side. He had what Darcy thought was a sketchbook cradled in his lap and he was staring down at it intently. Darcy found that her mind was clear and the cloth felt uncomfortably sticky against her skin.

Steve looked over at her as Darcy sat up slowly. “How are you feeling?” Darcy wrapped her arms around herself, feeling embarrassed.

“Much better, thank you. How long have I been asleep?” Darcy realized with horror that it was dark outside. At least she hadn’t woken up chained in the basement.

“About six hours. Bucky towed your car here.”

Darcy’s breath left her in a shocked huff. “Six hours? I’m so sorry for crashing on your couch and for falling asleep. Shit, I didn’t even pay you for the water bottle!” Steve held up a hand to calm her, smiling gently.

“It’s alright, Miss Lewis. I’m just glad you’re okay. The water is on us.” Darcy brushed her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. She felt disgusting, but she wasn’t about to ask to shower in Steve and Bucky’s house. They’d been kind enough to her already.

“Thank you, and please, just Darcy. Is Bucky around? I’d like to thank him too.” Even though the best thanks Darcy could give him was probably just to get gone sooner rather than later.

“He’s in the garage. Probably taking a look at your car. He should be able to tell you what’s wrong with it by now.” Steve helped Darcy to her feet, only letting go when he’d assured himself that she could walk on her own without falling. Darcy assured him that she really did feel much better.

As they walked into the garage attached to the store, Darcy saw Bucky’s boots sticking out from underneath a lofted car. It looked vintage, a cherry red Ford straight out of the 40s. Darcy wondered if it was a commission or a pet project. To its left was Mew Mew.

At the sound of the approaching footsteps, he slid out from underneath the car. Darcy caught her breath at the sight of him again. He looked even more dashing with grease smeared across his cheek. Which was ridiculous, because he was even more off limits than Steve.

“How is Mew Mew?” Darcy asked, anxiously. Bucky gave her a blank look.

“Lady, I speak five languages and that’s not any of them.” Five languages, huh? Darcy wondered why. She barely spoke one herself.

“Well, _gentleman_ ,” Darcy said hotly. If he refused to call her by her actual name, she’d return the favor. “It’s Old Norse. Well, sort of anyway. My friend Thor named her something in Norse and I can’t pronounce it. Mew Mew is as close as I get.”

“Well, Mew Mew,” Darcy could have sworn she saw Bucky’s lips twitch and counted it as a small victory, “has a cracked cylinder head. You were leaking coolant all over the place. Your engine overheated because of it, and that’s why your car broke down.”

He may as well have been talking Greek, but Darcy nodded along politely. She glanced at Mew Mew again. A cracked-whatever sounded pricey. “What’s the damage?”

“It’ll set you back around $700.” Darcy’s chest seized. She didn’t have that kind of cash lying around. Most of her money was still tied up in Alex’s bank account, which she’d had no control over even when they were together. She couldn’t risk accessing it now because she had to stay off the grid. Even her phone was a burner.

What Darcy was living off of right now was the money from pawning her old phone and selling the watch she’d nabbed from her ex’s nightstand on her way out of their apartment. It was only supposed to last her until she could settle down and get a job, but Darcy wanted to get as far away from New Mexico as possible first. 

Darcy was down to a couple hundred bucks, which not only wouldn’t cover it, but would also leave her with nothing. She was so caught up in her panic, Darcy almost didn't see Steve approach. Immediately reading the panic on Darcy’s face, Steve asked: “Buck, how much does the part cost?”

“About $500 bucks. Be cheaper if it was aluminum, but the car is old so I need an iron one.” Steve put a consoling hand on Darcy’s shoulder.

“How about we just charge you for the parts? I don’t want to leave you stranded.” It was so sweet of him that Darcy nearly cried. It only made the fact that she didn’t have $500 even more humiliating. She was almost 30 years old and couldn’t scrape together half a grand.

Darcy had been so careful with her savings before she met Alex. Retirement fund, rainy day fund, CDS, stocks, even. Lewis women were nothing if not thrifty.

Working in Jane’s lab didn’t pay the best, but Darcy loved it too much to quit. Plus, she had a poli-sci degree if she ever wanted to go into something more lucrative like campaign management. But of course, nothing so high profile was a possibility now.

Then she’d been stupid enough to merge her accounts with her ex and he’d cut Darcy’s finances off at the knees. _Now I’m too afraid to use my own bank account_. “I don’t have the money at the moment, but I can have someone wire it to me.” Even as she said it, Darcy began to doubt herself.

Of course, Jane or Thor would send her the money in a heartbeat if she asked. As would Nat and several other of Darcy’s friends. But could a wire be traced? Venmo? Paypal? If anyone could trace such a thing, it was Alex. Darcy couldn’t risk it. Besides, she hadn’t been in contact with anyone since she’d left.

“You don’t look so sure of that,” Bucky said quietly. Once again, Darcy found herself trying not to cry. She wanted to call Jane or her mom, but it was too risky to do either. Her mom didn’t even know what was going on.

Jane had agreed to maintain the elaborate hoax that she and Darcy were on a science trip to Siberia where there was no cell service or internet. Darcy’s mom was too tech-clueless to question it. If Darcy didn’t already feel enough like shit, lying to her mother only made it worse, even if it was to protect her.

“I’m sorry. I- I can work for the money.” Darcy seized on the opportunity immediately. “I’ll work in the gas station or the clinic or whatever. I’ll even clean your house. And you can just substitute the wage for paying back the car.”

The lovers traded uneasy looks. Darcy felt her desperation swell. “Please. You won’t even know I’m here. I’ll sleep in my car. I have enough granola bars and jerky to last me for a week.” If she rationed them, anyway. “I’m a fast learner, I swear it.”

“Darcy, slow down.” Darcy hadn’t even realized she was hyperventilating until Steve’s words forced her to even out her breathing. She reacted to his gentle, but stern tone without having to think. Her shoulders slumped. “We’ll figure something out. Working in the shop is a good idea. Can you cook?” Darcy nodded mutely. “Tell you what, if you cook dinner and do some chores around the house, we’ll throw in room and board.”

Darcy opened her mouth to protest. “That’s not up for debate. We aren’t letting you sleep in a car. Right, Bucky?” Bucky only grunted.

“I’ve been sleeping in my car for a week just fine,” Darcy grumbled. Darcy could tell by the look on both of their faces that it was the wrong thing to say.

“I’m this close to paying off the repairs myself,” Steve joked, but Darcy could tell there was an element of seriousness there. It seemed he was just that kind of man. “But I have a feeling you’d be upset if I did that.”

“Of course I would” Darcy erupted. “I can pay for it myself!”

Steve laughed. “Thought so. So you agree that you’ll stay in the guest bed and eat real, proper food? No sleeping in cars and no beef jerky.” He said the word like it left a foul taste in his mouth. Darcy was a bit offended. She loved beef jerky.

Slowly, reluctantly, Darcy nodded. Working to pay it off was better than charity, and she didn’t exactly love crashing in the backseat of her car. Still, it was a hard agreement to make.

Darcy had a hard time trusting men, especially the charming ones. Past experiences had taught her to be wary of Steve’s type: the type who seemed too good to be true. Yet, there was something about these two, even the coarse Bucky, that made Darcy feel safe.

Steve turned to his boyfriend and Darcy turned away as they had a silent conversation with their eyes. As nice as Steve and Bucky had been, they were still just strangers to Darcy. Nothing had changed. She was still alone in this.

“Are you okay with this, Buck?” Steve whispered. Darcy tensed, ready for Bucky to kick her out. He didn’t seem cruel; he had even seemed worried about Darcy a few times, but he was closed off to her in a way that Steve wasn’t.

Bucky shrugged. Darcy couldn’t discern what he was feeling. His face was carefully blank. “The part will take a week to get here, anyway. I don’t stock the iron ones anymore because all the new cars have aluminum. I wouldn’t feel comfortable turning a dame out on the street, either.”

“Well that settles it,” Steve said cheerily. “Darcy, are you hungry? I grilled earlier. Any allergies or dietary needs?” Darcy shook her head. She was admittedly starving and whatever ‘grilled’ meant sounded like heaven. “Dutch will be pleased. She doesn’t get a lot of visitors.

“After dinner, we should set a schedule,” Darcy insisted, grabbing her bag from the car before following them out of the garage and back toward the house. She planned to ask for a shower as soon as they finished eating. It didn’t feel as weird if she was technically paying rent, at least in some form. Plus, she felt utterly gross.

“Schedule?” Surprisingly, it was Bucky he asked. He held the gate open for Darcy, standing as far from her as possible as she squeezed by. _Just great_ , Darcy thought glumly:  _Another hot guy who hates me_. At least he was willing to talk to her.

“For what my hypothetical wage is per hour, so I don’t short stiff you on time worked. I won’t count any household things because that’s for room and board. Also, I’m paying you the $800 because your time and labor are valuable too. Believe me, I’ve worked all kinds of shitty jobs. I know how much labor is undervalued. Retail, food service you name it and I’ve worked there. One time in college--”

“Darcy,” one faint smirk from Bucky was enough to freeze the words right in Darcy’s mouth and send her heart careening into her throat. “What did Steve say about slowing down?” Steve himself had already vanished inside the house. It was just Bucky and Darcy on the porch.

“To… do that?” Darcy squeaked. For a moment, they held one another’s gaze. Then, like a rubber band snapping back into place, Bucky’s eyes went cold again and he jerked back from Darcy as if that whole conversation had never happened.

 _Well,_ Darcy thought, as she watched Bucky disappear into the house. _I’m not sure if this is a refuge or a trap. Not like I have a choice, either way._ With that ominous thought on her mind, she followed them inside.


	2. Cocytus

The kitchen was empty when Darcy crept into it early the next morning. With the exception of Dutch, of course, who immediately wrapped herself around Darcy’s ankles. Darcy yawned into the sleeve of her Hufflepuff pajama set. Despite locking the door and sleeping with her taser on the bedside table, she’d barely been able to sleep last night.

It wasn’t that she thought either Bucky or Steve would try to do something while she was sleeping. They’d more than proven their kindness to her. But habits were hard to break, even when they were irrational, and caution had become second nature to Darcy.

There was an empty glass and a blender container in the sink, filled with the remnants of what appeared to be a banana smoothie. Whoever had consumed it was nowhere in sight. Darcy scooped a carton of eggs from the fridge and tucked it under her arm as she turned on the tap. When the dishes were clean and stowed in the drying rack, she fired up the burners.

After digging through various cabinets, Darcy unearthed a pan and cracked a few eggs into it. After a moment of thought, she cracked a few more. Judging by their size alone, Darcy was willing to bet that both Steve and Bucky were big eaters.

Darcy was frying up some bacon and cutting into a ripe avocado when Steve rounded the corner. Unlike Darcy, he was still in his pajamas. “How are you doing this morning?”

“Good morning! Way better, thanks!” Darcy greeted.

Steve took a seat at one of the island barstools. He looked even more gorgeous with bed hair than with the pristine, slicked back look she’d seen yesterday. If Steve looking more gorgeous was even possible. “I thought I told you to sleep in,” Steve frowned. Darcy shrugged sheepishly.

“I’m an early bird” At least she was now that she slept fitfully, waking every few hours with a start to stare restlessly into every shadowy corner until exhaustion took over and sleep claimed her once more.

Steve’s nose wrinkled at the phrase. “You and Bucky have that much in common. He always gets out of bed at dawn to go for a run before the heat sets in for the day.” Darcy nodded. It was a smart move for someone living in the desert.

“Sounds peaceful.”

“I’m sure you could join him if you want. He’s already out on his run for this morning, but he goes almost every day.” That explained the smoothie, then. Darcy paused, midway through transferring a French omelet and a load of bacon onto a plate. She doubted she’d be going on a run with Bucky anytime soon, but she couldn’t exactly say that to Steve.

Instead, Darcy slid the plate in front of him. A moment later, she dropped a piece of avocado toast on top. It was all very Instagram of her. Not that she could post on Instagram at the moment. Steve shot Darcy a smile that had her stomach doing flips.

“This looks delicious, Darcy, thank you. You didn’t have to make breakfast.” Darcy wagged her finger at him. “

“Yes, I absolutely did. We have a contract and everything!”

Around a mouthful of food, Steve argued: “I would hardly call it a contract. We didn’t write anything down, and you certainly didn’t have to start the very next morning.” He sighed happily. “This is delicious. You’re quite the cook.”

Darcy shrugged, trying not to smile at the praise. “I’m more of a baker, really. And verbal contracts are just as valid as written ones. I should know, I was a pre-law minor.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You’re a lawyer?” Darcy was astonished to see that he’d made his way through over half his plate. Her instincts about his eating habits had been right. He’d practically inhaled the omelet. She was only just starting to pick away at her own plate.

Darcy laughed. “Not even close. I never even intended to go to law school.”

“So why take the minor?”

“I thought it might help me in my career.” She turned off the oven and shoveled the remaining food onto a plate for Bucky, whenever he appeared. “Besides, legal knowledge and public debate skills are just generally useful.”

“What career?”

Darcy stared at him contemplatively over her eggs. “Now that’s an interesting question. I majored in poli-sci at Culver. Both politics and non-profits have crossover with the legal system.” Darcy could see where Steve’s train of thought was going and cut him off at the pass. “I didn’t end up working in poli sci, though. I’ve actually been a lab manager for the last few years. But not as a scientist. More like scientist adjacent.”

Steve laughed. “That is complicated. How’d you end up as a lab manager if you aren’t a science person?”

“My senior year I only needed one six credit internship to graduate. I was a bit late signing up, however. A lab internship was the only one left. It was in the middle of nowhere, so no one else wanted it. I was the only applicant.”

Steve set down his, remarkably empty, plate. “Yet you’ve stayed in the field?”

Darcy grinned. “Same lab and everything. It’s not that I’ve fallen in love with science. I’m getting better at the basics, but it’s not my passion or anything. It’s just that my boss became my best friend and it turns out that I’m really good at taking care of people. Especially scientists who forget how to eat or breathe without supervision.”

“Sound like you found your place,” Steve said warmly. He opened his mouth to ask a question that Darcy guessed was probably ‘so why are you driving to nowhere?’ when the front door opened and Bucky padded into the kitchen. He glanced between Steve, Darcy, and the food on the table.

“I made breakfast if you want some,” Darcy offered. “You probably want to shower, though.” His hair was damp with sweat. Bucky stooped to say hello to Dutchess. Steve cleared his throat.

“Breakfast sounds great,” Bucky said, straightening up again. Darcy slid him the remaining plate. Like Steve, he consumed nearly half of it in seconds, nodding to himself as he ate.

“Incredible, right?” Steve asked. Darcy waved a dish towel at him modestly.

“He’s right. This is way better than what I or this punk can cook.” Bucky gave Darcy a small smile as Steve elbowed him playfully in the side. Darcy turned quickly back toward the stove so they wouldn’t catch her smiling like an idiot.

Hadn’t she just sworn off all men? Now she was swooning over the barest glance from two men who were in a relationship _with each other_. Darcy needed to get it together fast.

The reality was that she’d only be here for two more weeks (the amount of time it would take for Bucky to get the part and repair Mew Mew and for Darcy to work off her debt). After that, she would be back on the road and never see either of them again.

After he’d finished the food, Bucky vanished down the hall. After a minute, she heard the shower start upstairs. Darcy glanced meditatively around the kitchen. She’d been too out of it and nervous to notice much of her surroundings. Now she got a good look at the house.

It was clean and almost spartanly decorated. The kitchen was well stocked and the furniture they did have was high quality, so Darcy didn’t think money was the issue. But there was no clutter. Nothing to give the place personality or make it feel lived in.

Steve stood up from the counter, yawning. “We should probably head out. The store is supposed to open at 7:30am.” Darcy followed him toward the front door.

“Aren’t most gas stations open all night?” Darcy asked. Outside, the sun was as boiling as she remembered it. Even in shorts and a t-shirt Darcy was unpleasantly warm and that was coming from someone who was always complaining about being freezing.

“In more populated areas, yes. We get a fair amount of traffic since this is the only road that comes through this area, but not so much that the store needs to be open that long. We don’t have the staff for it anyway. It’s just me and Bucky out here.”

Steve unlocked the front door to the gas station and held the door for Darcy. As if by magic, another chair had appeared behind the counter. Darcy wondered when he’d had the time to put it there. Last night after she’d gone to bed, maybe?

“What if people run out of gas?”

Steve jerked his head toward the pumps outside. “They’re open 24/7 to credit card access.” Steve shook his head. “There was a time when there used to be gas station attendants who pumped the gas for you, you know.”

Darcy laughed. “Yeah, maybe in the 50s.”

Steve shook his head insistently. “The ma and pop place where I grew up still has a couple employed there.” He gestured to one of the chairs and when Darcy sat down, he started showing her how to work the cash register.

Darcy’s first customer made her a little bit nervous, but no more than any first day on the job would. She’d worked plenty of cash registers before, from malls to roller skate arenas. It was more Steve watching her than anything.

Pretty soon she’d established an easy rhythm and Steve left his seat at her side to carry in a delivery of supplies. He waved away Darcy’s offer to help and they talked about the classics while Steve sorted things onto shelves.

“Faulkner is totally overrated!” Darcy insisted as they stood once again around Steve and Bucky’s kitchen counter on their lunch break. Steve, it seemed, didn’t like to eat a meal sitting down unless he had to.

Steve spoke around a mouthful of pastrami on rye. “You can’t be serious! Faulkner was a literary master. The way he subverts time in A Rose for Emily as a metaphor for the generational clash in the postwar South? Now that’s literature.”

“No, what it is,” Darcy popped a chip into her mouth, “is trite. Faulkner uses the same themes over and over again until they’re beaten to death. He can’t even keep track of his characters. How can someone commit suicide and then show up later, alive in another story with no explanation?”

“Ah, but the inconsistencies are a part of his style. His narratives aren’t static. Why should his characters be?” Steve glanced at his watch and sighed. “I have to get back to the store. I think I can handle the register if you want to take the afternoon off.” Darcy shook her head adamantly. She was going to do the work she’d promised and earn every cent of that repair money.

“Alright, well maybe you can help Bucky out in the garage? He just towed a car in from a motel a few miles from here. The owner wants it fixed as soon as possible so she can get back on the road.” _I should have taken the afternoon off after all_ , Darcy thought.

Darcy found Bucky once again under the engine of a car. She heavied her footsteps as she approached, not wanting to startle him while he was laying under several tons of metal. He poked his head out at her. “Steve sent me to help,” Darcy called. Bucky pushed himself out from underneath the car. His metal arm glinted in the sunlight streaming in through the open garage door.

“You know anything about cars?”

“I’ve hotwired Mew Mew a few times when she didn’t start.” Bucky looked grudgingly impressed.

Wiping his stained hands on a nearby rag he said: “I’ve hotwired a few cars myself. Where’d you pick it up?”

Darcy shrugged. “Google. You?”

“Foster care. Come here.” Bucky crooked a finger and Darcy obediently joined him by the side of a truck a few yards away.

“What’s wrong with the car?” Darcy asked, rubbing a smudge of dust off of one of the windows. Bucky shrugged and popped the hood of the car.

“I’m not sure yet. It just came in. The owner said she’s been hearing squealing noises under the hood and that there’s an indicator light for the battery.” Bucky tossed her a set of keys which Darcy caught more or less deftly. “Give her a whirl and we’ll see what’s wrong.”

Darcy hopped into the truck and started the engine. Sure enough, it was making a strange screeching noise. “The headlights are dim!” Bucky called over the sound of the engine, which Darcy assumed meant more to him than it did to her. “You can turn it off now.” Darcy killed the engine and once again joined him at the front of the car.

“I’m willing to bet it’s an alternator fault. They work with the battery to generate power, so that would explain why the battery indicator light is on.” He waved Darcy over again and pointed to a part of the engine.

“Look at that wire.”

Darcy inspected the wire. It appeared to be torn. The insulation around it was burned. “It’s broken. The problem must be electrical, then?”

Bucky nodded. “I’m gonna grab the voltmeter. We’ll check the wires and make sure there’s not a voltage leak. After that we can fix the wires. The alternator will need replacing as well. Shouldn’t take long.”

By the time they’d finished, Darcy knew more about cars than ever before in her lifetime. Which still wasn’t a whole hell of a lot. Still, a sense of satisfaction came over her when the engine was up and running again. She could see why Bucky must like this job.

Darcy realized she was sneaking glances at his bionic arm again. It looked high tech and moved with all the dexterity of a real limb. Darcy had never seen anything like it. “Does that--” the question was part way out of Darcy’s mouth before she caught herself and slammed her jaw shut. Bucky raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Whatever you want to ask, just ask.” Darcy opened her mouth to protest, but Bucky insisted “Ask, Darcy.” _Gods help me. Even him saying my name has an effect on me,_ Darcy thought

“Don’t you get shocked when you work with electrical stuff?” Bucky laughed and it was a warm, throaty laugh. The kind that brightened up a room. It was a shame he didn’t do it more.

“I can’t say I’ve had that problem. I just wear rubber gloves like I would with my flesh hand.”

“It’s a very fancy arm. Did you build it?” Bucky’s face seemed to darken a bit, and Darcy worried she’d upset him, but he continued talking to her anyway.

“No, I didn’t. I upkeep it, though. I’ve even replaced parts of it with better ones. There’s no one else to repair it out here, so I learned myself.”

“That’s really cool! Do you think you could build another one? If you could, you could probably sell it for a lot of money. None of the prosthetics I’ve seen can actually move like that.” Darcy was aware she was rambling, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Plus, I’m sure you could help a lot of people!”

She took a deep breath and cut herself off before she started giving him advice on starting a prosthetic arm non-profit or some other such tangent. “I, uh, sorry. I talk a lot”

Bucky looked even more serious than usual. “Darcy, you don’t need to apologize for who you are.” It was as if he’d knocked the breath out of her. It was the kind of thing she’d only heard in Nicholas Sparks movies. Maybe she’d misread him.

Sure, Steve had the glowing smile and easy-going personality of an All-American heartthrob, but Bucky clearly had an effortless charm of his own. Even if you had to get past a little growliness to find it. And shit if that growliness didn’t add to the package.

“I haven’t thought much about trying to make another arm. I’d be a bit of an investment for the parts, but… I might be able to replicate it.” He seemed to be thinking it over seriously. “It’s an interesting idea.”

Bucky glanced down at his watch. “I have some work to finish up and I need to be here when the client’s cab gets here so she can pay for the repairs and pick up her car tonight. Steve should be closing up the store soon, too.”

“I can get started on dinner!” Darcy declared. She was eager to prove her usefulness, afraid that Steve and Bucky would change their mind about letting her work off her car fees. “I should have asked this yesterday, but do the two of you have allergies?”

“Steve won’t eat mayo,” Bucky said. “He’s not allergic. Just a punk.”

“Hey!” Darcy defended. “He’s right. Mayo is the pineapple on pizza of condiments.”

Bucky looked dismayed. “God help me, there’s two of you.” Laughing, Darcy made her way out of the garage and back toward the house. Steve had given her the code to get in last night. Something had loosened in her chest since this morning. She was no longer convinced that Bucky hated her. He only seemed to need a while to warm up to people for reasons that Darcy was willing to bet were related to why he was missing an arm and had so much security around his home.

Reasons, of course, that were none of Darcy’s business. If anyone knew what it was like to have a past you didn’t want to talk about, it was Darcy Lewis. She was thinking about that past as she whipped up one of her favorite dishes: Lo Mein.

She, Jane, and Natasha ordered it from the Chinese place in town every Friday, though Darcy had recently started trying her hand at making it herself. It was a tradition back home and Darcy could use a bit of home right now. As accommodating as Steve and Bucky had been, Darcy missed Puente Antiguo.

Not for the first time that day, Darcy thought about calling Jane. She’d bought a prepaid phone the day she’d left at a 7-11. She’d even paid in cash. But Darcy had already used it once to call both Thor and Jane when she crossed out of New Mexico. She was hesitant to use it again until she needed too, although she’d promised to check in weekly.

The door opened and Darcy could hear the stains of Steve and Bucky’s conversation over the sizzle of the pan. Bucky’s warm laughter filled the air once more. _So he really isn’t grumpy all the time_. Darcy, in true Lewis fashion, was suddenly determined to get him to like her.

“That smells delicious, Darcy! You’re a saint!” Steve greeted cheerily as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m Jewish,” Darcy replied dryly, although she was technically secular. “We don’t have saints.”

“Ah, well you’re a mal’ach, then!” Steve corrected, using the Hebrew word for angel with only slightly terrible pronunciation. Darcy was impressed.

Bucky pulled a stack of plates down from a nearby cabinet and explained. “We grew up in Brooklyn, near Williamsburg. It’s a predominantly Jewish area.” Brooklyn! That was the intonation Darcy had been trying to place, although years away from home had clearly diluted their accents.

Then, something else occurred to Darcy. “The two of you grew up together?” Steve nodded, looking surprised he hadn’t mentioned it.

“We did. We’ve been best friends since we were kids. This jerk was always trying to keep me out of fights.” Darcy tried and failed to picture either of them as kids.

“Keep you out of fights?” Darcy found herself shooed away from the stove as the two men served up food and brought out silverware and drinks. Apparently, she had done more than her fair share of work by making dinner. Darcy had a feeling if she tried to do the dishes, Steve would have a heart attack.

“I was a bit scrawny as a kid.” That Darcy definitely couldn't picture. The man was built like a Calvin Klein underwear model. Steve cast a disparaging look at Bucky. “But I could hold my own.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If it weren’t for me, he would have been beaten into a pulp most of the time.”

Steve laughed good-naturedly. “To be fair, I was.” To Darcy he said, “you should see my old family photos. My poor mother would dress me in my Sunday best and there I was with a split lip and a black eye!”

Darcy chortled around her fork. “Well, you’re clearly not scrawny anymore. What’d you start working out for?”

“The army,” Steve and Bucky replied, almost in sync. Which, now that Darcy thought about it, explained a lot of things.

“The two of you enlisted together?” Darcy asked and did the math. “That was when ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ was still in place right?” Darcy shook her head. She couldn’t believe how ridiculous and hateful some of the policies in the US were, even today.

“Yes.” Steve shoveled lo mein into his mouth. “Bucky and I weren’t exactly dating at the time, but we were…” he shrugged. “We definitely kept some things on the down low.”

“Didn’t the policy make you mad?” It had made Darcy livid. She’d called her senators so many times about it she was surprised they hadn't blocked her number. If there was anything Darcy Lewis wasn’t, it was politically inactive.

Bucky shrugged. “Sure, but there wasn’t much we could do about it without risking getting kicked out. It was the middle of the recession and the military was one of the few places hiring. It put Stevie through college. We couldn’t afford to get discharged. Unjust or not.”

“So how long have you two been dating?” Darcy asked. Maybe if she kept reminding herself, she wouldn’t keep having inappropriate thoughts about either one of them.

“Going on ten years now,” Bucky said. He glanced at Steve affectionately. Darcy stabbed at her noodles. Ten years was a long time. The only relationship she’d had that came close to that length ended in her fleeing the state.

“Are you two planning to tie the knot?” Darcy asked. If she remembered correctly, same-sex marriage had been legalized in Nevada back in 2014. Steve had only called Bucky his boyfriend, not his husband.

“Eventually,” Bucky shrugged. “It’s just a piece of paper, right?” He shared a long, loving look with Steve. It felt strangely intimate for Darcy to witness. “We know how we feel.” For the second time that day, a heart-meltingly sweet line had slipped past Bucky’s hard exterior.

“What about you, Darcy?” Steve leaned forward as he spoke and Darcy felt strangely nervous. “Are you seeing anyone?” It was like she was pinned in place by his gaze. If he wasn’t in a relationship, Darcy would have thought he was flirting with her.

“Not at the moment, no.” Impulsively, she added, “I just got out of a long relationship.” Darcy wasn’t sure why she’d brought it up. She hated talking about Alex. She certainly didn’t need to drag Steve and Bucky into her drama.

Bucky must have seen something on her face. “Bad break up?”

Darcy laughed humorlessly and took a long sip of the wine Steve had set out for dinner. “That’s an understatement.” Darcy stared darkly down at her meal. Bucky and Steve traded glances that Darcy couldn’t read.

“Sounds like you could use some cheering up,” Steve said abruptly. He stood and vanished into the living room. A moment later, Darcy heard the stirrings of music. “Come on!”

Bucky nodded for her to follow. “We’d better not keep him waiting. Steve is a stubborn bastard when he’s got an idea in his head.” Steve was waiting for them in the living room. The radio was playing lively classical and Steve had pushed the coffee table to one side.

“Are you up for a dance?” Steve asked.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Darcy replied. She glanced at Bucky, but he didn’t seem particularly surprised by Steve’s offer. Steve shook his head.

“C’mon, Darcy, indulge me. Not dancing with a beautiful woman would be a tragedy.” His eyes were black and bright as he took her hand. “Do you know how to waltz?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see the flush on her face. “Do I look like I know how to waltz?”

“I’ll show you.” Steve took her right hand in his and put his other hand on Darcy’s upper back. It was far above where it needed to be to be respectful and yet Darcy wished it were lower. As if she didn’t feel bad enough about crushing on a man in a relationship, now she had to hold him in her arms.

“Step back with your right foot,” Steve coaxed, guiding her backward. “Then your left.” He walked her through the basic box-steps of a waltz, and though Darcy only stumbled a few times, she certainly didn’t have Steve’s natural grace.

“We’ll try a promenade next,” Steve said. Darcy made a sound of laughing protest. “Steve, I can barely keep up with the steps you just showed me and now you want to do something else?”

Suddenly, hands settled on top of Darcy’s and she felt the heat of Bucky’s body against her back. The laughter died in her throat. “Here, I’ll help you. Let’s start the sequence over again,” Bucky said into her ear.

So the two of them guided Darcy’s through the steps, Steve leading her from the front and Bucky from behind. Darcy was sure her whole face was beet red. She couldn’t look Steve in the eye. By the time she managed to extract herself from their grip, her heart was hammering in her chest.

Darcy took a shaky sip of her wine. “Why don’t you two show me how it’s done?” They did, spinning across the floor with far more grace than Darcy could ever manage. They took turns leading, switching with such sudden fluidity that she could barely follow who was doing what.

The music switched to something more fast tempoed and this time it was Bucky who decided he was going to teach Darcy to tango. By the time they finally turned off the music, Darcy’s feet and brain were exhausted.

She yawned. “Thank you. This was fun. If I ever meet some rich people, I’ll be able to trick them into thinking I’m one of their kind long enough to escape. I should get the dish--”

“We’ve got them. Really. Please, go and get some rest. We appreciate your help.” Steve gave her what could only be described as puppy eyes and Darcy relented. She really was tired. Besides, she’d decided she would call Jane before she went to sleep.

“Goodnight,” Darcy whispered. They were still watching her as she climbed the stairs.

\---

The phone only rang twice before Jane answered. “Darcy?” Darcy could hear the relief in her friend’s voice. Jane shouted to someone off the phone. “It’s Darcy!”

“Hey, Jane. Please tell me you aren’t still at the lab. I’ll be very disappointed if you’re sciencing in the middle of the night.” Darcy had made Jane promise to actually eat and sleep in her absence.

“I’m not, I’m at my apartment. Darcy, I’m so glad to hear from you. Nat’s here. I’m going to put you on speaker.”

“Hey gorgeous,” Nat’s voice came over the line. “Where are you?”

Darcy paused, unsure of how to answer. Finally, she settled on: “I’m not sure if I should say.” There was a brief silence over the line.

“You think he’s tapping my phone?” Jane asked quietly. Darcy felt, for the millionth time, guilt at what she’d dragged her friends into.

“I’m not sure, Janey. But I want to be careful. I can tell you that I’m safe. Mew Mew broke down, but I’m staying with… friends.”

This prompted exclamations of both surprised and worry from Darcy’s friends, so Darcy launched into an (abridged) version of the story. She left out Bucky and Steve’s names, just in case Alex was listening.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jane said when Darcy had finished. “We miss you.”

“I miss you all too. Say hello to Thor to me.”

“Darcy.” Darcy could tell even over the phone that Nat had her serious-business face on. “We will find a way to end this.” Darcy stared up at the ceiling bleakly. “We’ll bring you home.”

Darcy knew that if she could believe anyone on this topic, it was Natasha. She didn’t talk about her past much, but Darcy knew she’d done some below the board stuff in her homeland of Russia before immigrating to the United States. She’d also been through some of the same shit as Darcy. If anyone could take on Alex, it was Nat.

“I know. I just wish that time would come a little faster.” But deep down, did Darcy really know? Or did some part of her fear that she could never come home? “Send everyone my love.”

If Darcy cried silently as she lay in the darkness, there was no one around to tell.

\---

A cry in the middle of the night woke Darcy. She opened blurry eyes and stared dazedly around the room. Another low, guttural yell echoed from down the hall. Panic seized in Darcy's chest. Had Alex found her?

Darcy grabbed her taser from the bedside table. She’d been hiding it in the drawer during the day so Steve and Bucky wouldn’t see it and be offended by the implication that she didn’t trust them.

The hallway was dark and Darcy’s eyes had yet to adjust, so she kept one hand on the wall so she could find her way. In the other, she clenched the taser with white knuckles. More muffled cries came from a room down the hall. Occasionally there was a muted thump. It was coming from the master bedroom.

The corners of Darcy’s vision were white with nerves when she reached the door. It was ajar. Peering inside, she saw a figure thrashing on the bed. It was Bucky. He shouted something indistinguishable, lashing out at Steve, who was trying to hold him still. The scariest part was how far away Bucky’s eyes looked. He seemed to see nothing around him.

Darcy must have made a noise, because a second later Steve’s eyes flicked up to her’s. Darcy opened her mouth to apologize, but the words were stuck in her throat. She was frozen in place. Steve glanced down at the taser in her hand.

“Everything is okay,” Steve said in a strained, thin voice. “I’m sorry if we woke you.” Bucky began to sob. Darcy forced out something resembling an apology and fled back to her room. She couldn’t bring herself to lock the door.

Instead, she sat with her back against it and put her head in her hands. She could still hear Bucky crying down the hall. _We all have our demons_ , Darcy thought, _and mine are slowly wrapping themselves around my throat._


	3. Styx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the rating has changed! This chapter contains a brief scene of adult content.

The next morning, Darcy studiously avoided Bucky and Steve for as long as she could. She made breakfast (shakshuka with feta cheese) and left it at a lower simmer on the stove. The blender container was sitting in the sink once again, this time bearing the remnants of what appeared to be a blueberry smoothie. Darcy cleaned it out quickly before hurrying back upstairs.

She carried Dutchess with her, unsure of how likely the cat was to jump up on the stove. Darcy didn’t want her to burn her paws going after breakfast because Darcy was too much of a wimp to just talk to Bucky and Steve. Luckily, Dutch seemed content in the guest bedroom where Darcy set her. She curled up on Darcy’s half-open suitcase and promptly fell asleep.

Soon, Darcy heard the shower start up across the hall and eventually shut off. The front door opened. Footsteps went up and down the stairs. The shower started for a second time. Darcy checked her phone. It was almost 7:15. The store was supposed to open soon. Sighing, Darcy stood up. She couldn’t hide in the room all day.

This time, only Steve was waiting for her in the kitchen. The pan had been cleaned and put away. Steve turned toward her, lifting his coffee cup in greeting. To Darcy’s surprise, he didn’t seem at all upset or uncomfortable to see her.

“Breakfast was delicious. Bucky sends his thanks. We wish you would have joined us.” Steve patted his lap as Dutch, who had apparently followed Darcy downstairs, jumped gracefully into it.

“Oh, well, I was showering. In the shower.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Darcy was surprised he was acting so normally. Maybe Steve had forgotten about Darcy’s intrusion last night? _Yeah right._

“That’s too bad. It didn’t seem like you’d gotten anything to eat yet, so we left you a plate in the fridge.” It was sweet of him, though Darcy was too nervous to eat at the moment. Steve might be okay, but she’d yet to interact with Bucky. She didn’t have any problem with his nightmares. She just didn’t want him to feel she’d violated his privacy.

“Are you ready to get started with work?” Steve asked. “Buck’s already in the shop. Maybe you could help him this morning and me this afternoon?”

Darcy glanced around the kitchen for a lifeline and found one seemingly out of thin air. “Actually, I was hoping I could stay inside and clean today. Unless you boys really need me, of course.” Was it Darcy’s imagination or did Steve look briefly disappointed.

“Sure, if that’s what you’d prefer. You know where to find us if you change your mind.” Steve gave her the rundown of where all the cleaning supplies were before finally heading outside. Darcy couldn’t help but watch his behind as he went.

When Steve was gone, Darcy turned toward Dutch and said: “come on, let’s grab the bleach. Maybe I can clean my dirty mind after we do the laundry.”

Darcy spent most of her morning in a cleaning frenzy, locking herself in the bathroom to unclog drains and clean sink basins when first Bucky and then Steve came in for their lunch breaks. She thought she’d managed to avoid them until dinner time until a throat cleared behind her.

Darcy startled, almost dropping the Swiffer she was holding. Her heart seized in fear for a moment before relaxing as Darcy assured herself there was no threat. This had become common procedure for her now. “I’m sorry,” Bucky said, looking like he meant it. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Darcy assured. She tried and failed to reach the living room curtain rod for the third time in as many minutes. Whoever had installed it had not done so with compact lab managers in mind. She might have to get a chair to stand on. “I just didn’t hear you come in. Did you need something?”

“No, well, yes. I wanted to apologize for last night.” Darcy paused mid Swiffer.

“Apologize? What for?” She watched as Bucky gently pried the Swiffer from her hand, carefully avoiding touching her in any way. Admittedly, it was a little hurtful that he still seemed reluctant to touch her. Bucky reached up and easily began dusting the curtain rod.

“Steve told me that you walked in on my nightmare last night. I figured that’s why you were avoiding us. I’m sorry you had to see that. I hope it didn’t scare you.” Darcy stared at him, mouth agape.

“Bucky, that’s not--” he was staring down at her. Darcy could see the shame in his eyes and was horrified to have put it there. “That’s not why I’ve been avoiding you! Well, not really. I feel bad that I walked in on a private moment; I was just making sure the house wasn’t getting broken into. I thought you might be angry at me. But you didn’t scare me. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Bucky seemed as if he didn’t know how to react. “I’m relieved to hear you say that. Steve had himself in a lather about it over breakfast this morning. He-- we-- don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You’ve got nothing to apologize for, either.” He handed her the duster back.

“He seems to worry about others a lot,” Darcy said. Bucky chuckled.

“You’ve got no idea. Oh, by the way, Steve told me you had a taser last night.” Darcy froze. Was Bucky going to be upset about that? Demand to know why she was carrying around a weapon in his home? Instead, he just said: “you don’t have to worry about robbers. The house is fully monitored and alarmed. Our security system is state of the art. Plus, Steve and I both know our way around a fight.”

It wasn’t exactly robbers that Darcy was worried about, but the news reassured her either way. Besides, Darcy would be gone before she ever had to worry about Alex catching up to her here. At least she hoped so, although the idea of leaving filled Darcy with unexpected (and unwanted) regret.

“If you’re done cleaning,” Bucky’s rare smile was blinding, “do you want to come help me with another car? As it turned out, Darcy did.

\---

They settled into an easy sort of rhythm over the next three days. Darcy woke up every morning and made breakfast and Steve and Bucky joined her at the kitchen island once they had showered and dressed.

Bucky had discovered Darcy was cleaning out the blender for him and now did it himself before Darcy had the chance. Despite the fact that she was technically paying off a debt to them, they both went out of their way to create as little work for Darcy as possible.

The day after the nightmare fiasco, Darcy woke up earlier than normal, unable to sleep thanks to a bad dream of her own. She’d run into Bucky on his way out for a run and asked to join him. Noting Darcy’s wan face and shuttered eyes, Bucky only nodded.

They ran in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts but keeping one another company. The morning sun reflected beautifully across the flat, arid landscape. It was just cool enough for a run.

The jog restored Darcy’s peace in a way that little had since Darcy had started dating her ex. She couldn’t see herself rising at dawn every morning, but maybe she’d join Bucky once or twice more before she had to leave. Besides, she found herself enjoying his company. He didn’t talk as much as Steve, who Darcy had taken an instant and easy shine to, but he was opening up to Darcy the more time she spent with him.

“Is Bucky your real name?” Darcy asked him one night, as she tried to scrub a coffee stain out of Steve’s favorite mug. The men had a dishwasher, but Bucky liked to do the dishes by hand when he had the time. Apparently, he found it calming.

“My full name is James,” Bucky replied, taking the now cleaned mug from Darcy and drying it off. “Everyone has always called me Bucky, though.” He stashed the mug away in a cabinet and took the next dish from Darcy’s sudsy hands.

Darcy peered at him from beneath her eyelashes. “James, huh? Would you prefer to be called that or Bucky?”

Bucky shrugged and looked embarrassed. “My older sister is the only one who still calls me James. I don’t hate it, it’s just a bit formal is all.” Darcy almost dropped the plate she was holding. Instead, she gave Bucky a playful shove to the chest. Bucky looked down at the wet handprint she’d left on his shirt in surprise.

“You didn’t tell me you have a sister! What’s her name? What’s she like?”

Bucky coughed awkwardly. “I haven’t? Well, I guess it never came up. Her name is Rebecca and she’s a bit older than me. She still lives in Brooklyn, working as a pharmacist.” He peered down at Darcy appraisingly. “The two of you would probably get along. You’re both firecrackers.”

“Hey!” Darcy exclaimed.

“It was a compliment, doll.” Blushing, Darcy flicked water at him. _Doll?_ Darcy thought. _He’s never called me that before._ Coming from anyone else, it might have annoyed her, but coming from Bucky, it started a warmth in Darcy’s stomach. Bucky clicked his tongue at her, seizing a sponge and holding it out threateningly.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Darcy.” Darcy grabbed the dish hose and sprayed him in the face before he could blink.

Darcy barely had time to hear his surprised sputter of outrage before she was darting down the hall and toward stairs. She could hear Bucky chasing after her. Laughing, Darcy flung herself around the corner only to collide with Steve coming in the door. He looked down at her in surprise, steadying Darcy with a hand on her shoulder. “Darce? Is everything okay?”

“Bucky, he--” Darcy panted out, as Bucky came crashing around the corner. He eyed her mischievously. “Hide me!” Darcy squeaked. Steve glanced between her and Bucky, whose hair was still dripping while he held a sponge menacingly above his head. Slowly, recognition dawned on Steve’s face.

Darcy realized she’d been betrayed only seconds too late. Steve already had his hands around her biceps and was holding her still as Bucky advanced. Darcy caught sight of a speckled creature watching her from the stairs. “Dutch!” Darcy cried. “Help me!” The cat, of course, only flicked her tail lazily.

“Brutus the Younger,” Darcy accused. “All of you.” Bucky stopped just in front of Darcy, so close she could feel his breath on her face when he spoke. Once again she found herself caught between the two of them and entertaining very inappropriate thoughts.

“You asked for this, Lewis,” Bucky warned. There was still a drop of water hanging precariously from his jaw. Darcy stuck her tongue out at him. Behind her, Steve laughed, the sound rolling through Darcy like thunder.

“What did she do to you, Buck?”

“Sprayed me in the face with the sink hose.” Steve let out a startled laugh.

“Well, that’s not very nice. What do you suppose we should do with her?” Darcy was trying very hard to keep her face neutral and her libido in check. She should not be getting turned on by this, no matter how suggestive their tones were.

Clearly, it must be unintentional. They were in a committed relationship with one another. Neither one of them would be flirting with someone else, especially not someone as emotionally damaged as Darcy was. Still, it was hard to be unaffected with two gorgeous men in such close proximity.

“Pay back the favor, of course.” Holding Darcy’s eye, Bucky squeezed the sponge over her head. Darcy gasped as the now cold water dripped across her forehead and between her breasts. Bucky was watching her with something that under any other circumstance Darcy would have classified as hunger.

“Uh,” Darcy broke his gaze to glance down. The water had soaked the front of her shirt. Darcy could see a hint of pink lace through the white cotton. Bucky followed her gaze and his pupils blew wide.

“Shit, Darcy, I’m sorry.”

Darcy laughed awkwardly, trying to even her breathing. “It’s okay. Nothing you’re interested in, anyway.” Bucky looked confused at this. “I should just, um--”

Steve let go of her, and a moment later Darcy felt his jean jacket settle over her shoulders. She wrapped it around her like a shield, hoping it would trap her desire in the deepest, darkest part of her. “Thanks, Steve. Let me just go change.”

Darcy fled up the stairs and into her room before either one of them could reply. Her heart was hammering as she closed the door behind her. She could make out the faint stirrings of conversation below, but couldn’t tell what was being said. Hopefully, neither Steve nor Bucky had noticed heart pulse jumping in her throat.

As Darcy stripped out of her wet shirt and changed into a dry one, she held Steve’s jacket up to her face. For just a second, she allowed herself to inhale the scent of his cologne. _Gods, Darcy thought, I’m such a creep._

Steve was reclining on the couch when Darcy came back downstairs again. Bucky was nowhere in sight. One of them had finished the rest of the dishes in her absence. Steve glanced up at Darcy as she sat down on the couch beside him. He was holding a large, leather-bound book in one hand in a pencil in the other. Darcy had seen him scribbling in the book several times since she’d arrived, but hadn’t had a chance to ask him what it was yet. Better late than never.

“What is that?” Darcy nodded her head towards the tome. Incredibly, Steve looked sheepish. “It’s my sketchbook.” Darcy was taken aback. This was Bucky’s sister all over again and Darcy didn’t think her heart could handle another water fight.

“I didn’t realize you were an artist. Is drawing your main thing?” Steve tapped his pencil thoughtfully against the coffee table.

“Mainly, yes. I do a lot of charcoal work, too, and I’ve been trying to get more into painting.” Now that Steve pointed it out, Darcy realized she’d seen him with dark stains on his palms and under his fingernails more than a few times. She felt dumb for not realizing he was an artist sooner.

“Can I see some of your work?” Darcy asked. “Pleeeease?” Steve looked hesitant and then determined.

“Only if you let me draw you.” That stopped Darcy up short.

“Uh, sure. Like one of your French girls, right?” Steve only gave her a blank look and Darcy groaned. “Dude, come on. Not even Titanic?” One of the things Darcy was quickly learning about Steve was that he was very old fashioned. He could barely use the landline, hadn’t seen most popular movies or TV shows, and didn’t understand a single one of Darcy’s internet references.

“Unfortunately not.” He handed Darcy the sketchbook and she began to flip through it.

“After this, we are so watching it!” Darcy glanced down at the first sketch and caught her breath. It was of Bucky mid-laugh. Darcy could practically see his eyes sparkle on the page. The next drawing was of the desert horizon. The drawing after that was a bird in roost. Darcy flipped through the book in awe.

“Steve, these are beautiful.” His every line was artfully rendered. Carefully crafted details lingered in every corner. Something about the way Steve drew shadows seemed to make his drawings take life. Reluctantly, Darcy returned the sketchbook.

“I’m still working on my technique,” Steve said modestly. “Do you mind if I draw you now? The lighting in here is too good to pass up.” The last of the evening sun was shining in on them. Darcy nodded her assent.

“Should I move? Or change or something?” She was still only wearing a graphic tee and jean shorts. Steve shook his head adamantly.

“No. You’re perfect.” Darcy pretended he hadn’t just knocked the breath right of her. “You can keep talking to me, just try not to move around too much.”

“What do you want me to talk about?” Darcy asked. Just then, Bucky came in from outside. He waved sheepishly to Darcy who rolled her eyes at him. “Steve is drawing me!” She called as Bucky went to the kitchen for a bottle of beer.

“I’m surprised it took him so long,” Bucky returned drily. “I thought he would have asked already. The man draws everything.”

“Hush, you jerk,” Steve replied. To Darcy he said “talk about whatever you want. Your friends, your childhood, your passions. Whatever will help pass the time. This might take a while.” Darcy guessed that had something to do with the detail she’d seen in his other drawings.

So she talked about her tiny hometown in West Virginia and Jane’s pop tart and coffee diet. She recounted the tale of her first (failed) driving test and traded barbs with Bucky about the usefulness of roundabouts. Steve’s boyfriend had settled himself on the couch as well and seemed content to just sit and listen to Darcy talk.

Darcy knew Steve was listening too, even though he seemed focused on drawing, because he would occasionally laugh or ask her a follow-up question to one of her stories. Even Dutch came and laid on the cat tree across from the couch. It reminded Darcy of game nights back home, when she and her friends would gather around Darcy’s tiny living room table and talk and get drunk over a game of monopoly. Darcy missed them dearly. She was an extreme extrovert. She needed human contact and connection to thrive.

“Done,” Steve said, when Bucky had finished regaling Darcy with the story of how he’d earned his army nickname. It was nothing polite enough to repeat in good company, although Darcy found it hilarious.

“Let me see!” Darcy jostled to his side, practically climbing into Steve’s lap to try and get a glimpse. She caught herself midway through the act and immediately backed off. Steve seemed as flustered as Darcy felt and passed her the notebook without comment.

The drawing looked all at once exactly like Darcy and nothing like her at all. That was her nose and the curve of her jaw, certainly. But the sinful bow of the lips and the rosy flush of the cheeks were unfamiliar. The woman in the drawing looked ethereal. Was this how Steve saw her?

“Steve, this is…” Darcy shook her head. “I love it. How much do you charge for your artwork? I obviously don’t have a ton of money, but I’d like to buy it if I can.” Steve shook his head, looking confused.

“Darcy, you don’t have to buy it. If you want it, it’s yours.” When Darcy opened her mouth to protest, he held up a finger to silence her. “I insist. It’s a gift.”

“Thank you. This is really too sweet.” Bucky peered over her shoulder and whistled.

“Damn. I didn’t think he’d be able to get that thing your eyes do when you smile, but there it is on paper.” Darcy shooed him away, blushing.

“The two of you are too much. Bucky, give me the remote. I’m putting on On-Demand and we’re making Steve watching Titanic.” So they did, Darcy clutching the drawing close to her side the whole movie.

\---

This time when Darcy woke to quiet, muffled whimpers in the middle of the night, she knew better than to grab her taser. Instead, she pulled a pillow over her head and tried to fall back asleep. As much as her heart ached for Bucky, she didn’t know him well enough to help him, even if they were becoming fast friends. Besides, he had Steve taking care of him.

Only, the cries didn’t die down. They went on for several minutes, punctuated by a fractured exhale or a tortured groan. Darcy sat up and stared at the bedroom door. Should she offer to help? Bring Bucky a glass of water or something? They hadn’t been mad at her for intruding last time, but that had been an accident.

A sudden shout made the decision for her. Darcy was on her feet and sliding quietly into the hallway before she could stop herself. She couldn’t listen to a person hurting and not do anything to help them. It wasn’t the Lewis way. Darcy approached the master bedroom, the door to which was cracked open only a sliver. Darcy wondered if the desert wind from the windows had knocked it ajar. She peered hesitantly through the crack, raising a hand to knock, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Because what she saw was not Bucky writhing in the throes of terror, but Steve writhing in the throes of ecstasy. He was lying on the bed, his checkered pajama pants pulled down to his hips and the covers twisted around his ankles. Hovering on top of him, Steve’s cock caught between his lips, was Bucky.

Darcy’s eyes took in the scene in a second and in less than that her brain was screaming at her to flee. Yet, Darcy’s feet were planted. She couldn’t make them move no matter how hard she tried. Her eyes were trained, unflinching, on the up and down rhythm of Bucky’s head.

Darcy should be embarrassed and horrified to have walked in on such a private, intimate moment. She _was_ embarrassed and horrified, but she was also shaking in the knees from a desire so strong it almost knocked her over. _I’m the worst_ , Darcy thought. _I’m a horrible, perverted stalker and oh my gods!_

Bucky had taken Steve’s impressive length down his throat in one fluid, tantalizing motion. Darcy was not a religious woman, hence her preference for the Greek pantheon over any modern deity, but there was something holy about the way Steve moaned. His back bowed upwards. Sweat glistened on his forehead. His hands twined in Bucky’s glossy, dark hair. Entwined as they were, the two looked like Achilles and Patroclus. Mighty warriors and lovers both.

Shifting in her suddenly damp panties, Darcy continued to will herself to go back to her room and shut the door, even as she leaned closer for a better view. Steve’s breath was escalating, coming out in loud, beseeching huffs. He threw a hand over his face, presumably to quiet himself before he woke Darcy. _Too late for that now._

Suddenly, as if he’d known she was there all along, Bucky looked over at Darcy.

She froze, horror gripping her. But Bucky did not slow his pace. From between his fingers, Darcy could see Steve watching her as well. There was no better time to flee and yet, they weren’t stopping. They didn’t seem shocked or angry or horrified. In fact, Bucky was picking up his pace.

So Darcy remained, disoriented and aroused, as she watched Bucky bring his lover to the edge. As Steve tumbled over into oblivion, Bucky looked over at Darcy again and smirked. Then, only then, could Darcy return to the solace of her bedroom.

\---

Darcy was waiting for them the next morning with a basket full of muffins. There had to be over two dozen of them. Darcy tended to overbake when she was stressed. As the two rounded the corner into the kitchen, actually arriving at the same time, which was unusual, Darcy did her best impression of a woman _not_ having an anxiety attack.

Unlike with the nightmare, Darcy’s plan was not to avoid Bucky and Steve. In fact, it was to be as nonchalant about the whole thing as possible. She was going to pretend like nothing ever happened. Bucky smiled coyly at her as he plucked a muffin from the basket. So he was content to play along, then.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t meet Darcy’s eye. His ears went pink every time Darcy spoke to him. At least she wasn’t the only one unsure of herself. Things were so much easier when Darcy could convince herself that this unspoken attraction between them was all in her head. But Bucky had shattered that illusion.

One of the things Darcy had worried most about last night after she’d returned to the guest bedroom was whether this would ruin her relationship with the men. One moment of shared voyeur-ship was swell and all, but it didn’t mean anything in the long term.

As much as she’d tried to prevent it, Darcy had gotten attached to Steve and Bucky. She’d spent nearly every waking hour with them for over a week. Not exactly a lifetime, but Darcy felt a connection to the couple that logic couldn’t explain. For someone with as many trust issues as Darcy, a bond like wasn’t worth risking in a moment of horniness.

By some small miracle, however, neither Steve nor Bucky shut her out in the following few days. If anything, Bucky seemed to open up to her more. He smiled more often, letting out a teasingly playful side that Darcy suspected few people outside of Steve got to see. As she’d suspected early on, Bucky was devastatingly charming when he wanted to be.

Although Steve was a bit shyer the day after the blowjob fiasco, he recovered quickly and was back to his charming self in no time. Neither he nor Steve mentioned the incident, but Darcy knew they hadn’t forgotten either. There was more long looks, lingering touches, and casual compliments that rogued Darcy’s cheeks. They had to be doing it on purpose. But if Bucky and Steve weren’t going to bring that night up, neither was Darcy.

Darcy hadn’t realized how miserable her life had become until she realized that in the week and a half she’d been staying with the boys, she felt happier than she had in months. For the first time she started dating Alex, Darcy was happy again.

Of course, it couldn’t last.

Darcy could only play house for so long. After all, she was only living here to pay off a debt. Bucky and Steve, despite their flirting with her, were in love. The kind of love Darcy only saw in fairy tales. She was just a passing interest, something to spice up their lives for a while. That ‘awhile’ had an expiration date, and it was coming up fast.

The night after her replacement car part arrived, Darcy sat on the living room floor all night unable to sleep. Dutch kept her company while Darcy scratched the cat anxiously behind the ears. “I’m being ridiculous, huh?” She whispered. Only… only it felt like her internship at the lab had. Like destiny. Like coming home. Darcy scoffed. If there was one thing she’d learned these past two years, it was that destiny showed no mercy.

Things only got worse the next morning. Darcy made breakfast like she always did, and decided to go for a run while Steve and Bucky showered. Together. It was like the universe was taunting her at this point. When she returned, Bucky and Steve were arguing about something in hushed tones.

Darcy hated arguing. It reminded her too much of Alex stumbling home late every night, drunk and yelling about what a bitch she was for not coming out with him as if Darcy didn’t have a job to get to the next morning. Arguing with Alex was like talking to a wall. He wouldn’t listen to a thing Darcy said. Just kept tearing her down until there was nothing left.

Bucky and Steve fell silent when Darcy entered, much to Darcy’s relief. The arrival of the car part had disturbed her enough and she was already in a fragile state. On top of that, the cable lines were on the fritz and the phone had been ringing all night with nobody on the other line but static. Darcy had barely slept. The phone company guy couldn’t come by to talk a look at it until late afternoon.

Darcy began cleaning off the counter while Steve helped Bucky with the dishes. An uncomfortable tension still filled the air. “Darcy,” Bucky began after a long moment, but Steve cut him off with a snap.

“Bucky, we agreed we weren’t going to talk about this yet.” Darcy tensed, hoping to any God that would listen that they would drop whatever argument they were having until later.

“Steve--” Bucky’s voice raised in volume, and Darcy, startled, took a step back, bumping into Steve who dropped the glass he’d been holding. Darcy’s vision went white as it hit the floor and shattered. The memory of another glass exploding inches from her face rocked through Darcy.

It was like she was right back there, clutching her bleeding cheek and stumbling into the bathroom while Alex followed her, laughing. He had thrown a whiskey glass right at her head. Was he crazy? He could have blinded her. He could have killed her!

“Darcy!” It was Bucky, reaching for her with his prosthetic arm from what seemed like miles away. Concern was written across his face. “Are you okay?” When he touched her, Darcy flinched back.

“Don’t!” She cried. Hurt flashed across Bucky’s face. Both he and Steve were staring at her and Darcy couldn’t bear it.

She darted out the kitchen door, heart in her throat. “Stupid, stupid!” Darcy cursed herself. Angry tears burned at the corner of her eyes. She’d been so careful to bury her damage around Steve and Bucky. She desperately wanted them to think she was normal. Now here she was falling to pieces in their kitchen. She was on the porch before she had time to breathe.

Darcy heard the front door open behind her. “Darcy, wait!” It was Bucky. Darcy glanced at him and saw sheer panic written across his face. He looked miserable. “I didn't mean to scare you. Damn it. It’s the arm, right? I usually cover it up when other people are around, I guess I’ve just gotten used to you seeing it.” Darcy realized he had pulled on a sweater on his way out. To hide his arm?

Darcy wrinkled her brow at him. “Bucky, what are you talking about? I don’t care about your arm. It’s not you who scares me.”

Bucky scoffed. “Sure, Darce. That’s why you flew like a bat out of hell when I grabbed you with it.” There was an awful vulnerability in his face. “It’s okay. I’m used to people being scared.”

“Bucky,” Darcy was getting irritated now. She already felt bad enough and bringing her damage down upon them. She especially didn’t want to worsen Bucky’s insecurities in the process. “There is nothing wrong with you. People who are scared of you just because of your arm are idiots.”

Darcy could see the tension coiled in his muscles. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d done.” Bucky looked at her now, imploringly, as if to drive the words home.

“I was captured during my time in the army and held prisoner for four years by a neo-nazi terrorist sect. In those four years, I was brainwashed into becoming one of them. That’s how I got this fucking arm.” Bucky stared down at it with such hatred that Darcy could barely stand to look at the expression on his face any longer.

Darcy flinched. She knew Bucky had scars in his past, but she hadn’t imagined how awful they were. Her heart ached for him. “I need you to understand, Darcy. I hurt people. I killed people. Innocent civilians. I don’t even remember everything I did. When I was finally captured, it took two years of therapy before I could remember who I was again. They tried me as a war criminal. Darcy, I’m a monster.”

Darcy took a step toward him. “Bucky you were tortured. You said yourself you were brainwashed and can barely remember what happened. Whatever you did, it’s not your fault!” Bucky growled low in his throat and instinctual fear rose in Darcy, but she pushed it away. Bucky was not Alex.

“Darcy, listen--”

“No, you listen to me.” She reached for him, but he jerked away. “What did that trial find you?”

Bucky paused. Quietly, he said: “Innocent.” Darcy could see Steve watching anxiously through the kitchen window.

“Because you are. Bucky, it’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s my own baggage. I don’t think you would ever hurt me.” She wiped miserable tears from her cheeks and Darcy could see the desire to wipe them himself away flicker across Bucky’s eyes. Still, he didn’t move.

“How can you be so sure?” Bucky sounded more terrified than the night Darcy had walked in on his nightmares. She had fled then, practically a stranger, hurting for him but unable to do a thing to help. Now they were so much more than strangers, and Darcy couldn’t bear to turn her back on Bucky again.

“I just am.” Slowly, Darcy reached out for him once more. Bucky watched her like a spooked animal as Darcy reached for his metal hand with her own. When she grasped it, he flinched but did not pull away.

“James Barnes, I know what a monster looks like, and you are _not_ one of them.” For a long moment, Darcy held his hand between her own. Bucky’s eyes were large and bright. He looked at her for a long time.

“Come inside,” Darcy pleaded. She needed to make sure that Bucky knew she didn’t fear him, even if it meant revealing her own vulnerability. Blessedly, when she tugged on his arm, he followed her. “We need to talk.”


	4. Phlegethon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for descriptions of abuse and gun violence

“Are you cold?” Steve asked as he set a brimming cup of coffee in front of Darcy. Rings of steam spiraled off of it beneath the light hanging over the coffee table, passing like shadows through the morning haze. Steve passed a second cup to Bucky before heading to the kitchen to retrieve his own. Dutch curled herself around Darcy’s feet and showed no sign of moving.

“Not cold,” Darcy replied. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re shaking like a leaf, doll.” Bucky watched Darcy drop about six sugar cubes into her mug. “You don’t have to talk about… whatever it is you’re about to talk about.” But Darcy did. Not only to prove to Bucky that she wasn’t scared of him, but to prove some things to herself. Darcy was tired of running and shutting everyone out. The former she couldn’t do much to stop, but the later was doable.

“I’m okay, really. Steven Rogers, you put down that blanket right now. I told you I’m not cold.” Sheepishly, Steve dropped the blanket he’d been carrying toward her back on the couch and sat down on her other side. It wasn’t an ideal seating scenario, but Darcy didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t that she minded being stuck between Bucky and Steve. Under normal circumstances, she enjoyed it too much. Right now, however, it left her a narrow escape route. Not from Bucky and Steve, but from her own feelings. How could she hide her emotions if every way she turned they could see the look on her face?

“This is really awkward,” Darcy announced. “Shit. I didn’t want to make this a whole thing, but after that disaster in the kitchen, I thought I should clear a few things up. Just know that I don’t really talk about this a lot and I’m not expecting you to have any kind of reaction at all. I just wanted you to know. Shit.”

Remembering the dishware shattering earlier, Darcy set down her mug. “The glass! There must be shards of it all over the floor. We should probably clean that up before someone steps on it. I don’t think most insurance covers cutting open an artery and bleeding to death because you dropped a glass on the fl--”

“Darcy. Breathe.” Steve, finally, mercifully interrupted Darcy’s rambling. What she assumed was Steve’s soldier voice managed to cut through her panic and calm her down like nothing else could. “I cleaned it up while you and Bucky were outside.” And thus Darcy’s last excuse went up in smoke like the heat off of her coffee cup. There was now no way but forward.

“The two of you have probably guessed, but I’m not just National Lampooning it on a solo road trip.” Darcy had been dodging questions about why she was driving through the Nevada desert since the day she’d arrived. Luckily, neither Steve nor Bucky had pushed too hard. They of all people could understand wanting to keep your past to yourself.

“The truth is that I recently got out of a bad relationship.” It was an understatement, but even now Darcy had a hard time saying the word ‘abusive’ out loud. She stared down into her cup so she wouldn’t have to look at either of them.

“That’s why certain things make me nervous. Like glass breaking. Loud, sudden noises in general.” Darcy chanced a glimpse of Bucky out of the corner of her eye. From the tightness in his jaw, Darcy guessed he’d read between the lines of what a “bad relationship” was.

Steve apparently needed a more direct line. “Define bad, Darce,” he asked. Once again, Darcy found herself at an impasse. She knew as instinctively as she knew her own name that neither of them would push her for details beyond what she wanted to give. The question was, what did she want to give? All Darcy knew was that she was tired of feeling so alone.

Maybe if she told someone else, the weight of the past two years wouldn’t way so heavy on her. Besides, this was Steve and Bucky, who she had already shared so much more than she had intended to with. Who she would leave and never see again in just a few days.

Darcy took Steve’s hand in her own and guided it to the back of her head. She spoke as she did, still not really looking at either one of them. “He used to drink a lot and he’s a belligerent drunk. One time he threw a whiskey tumbler at my head.” Behind her, Bucky drew in a quick breath.

Darcy rested Steve’s fingers against the left side of her neck, just above her hairline and at the base of her skull. She knew he would be able to feel the scar there, an inch and a half long and raised. “I moved fast enough, luckily. But the glass left me something to remember it by. Got me in the cheek too, but that didn’t scar.”

Steve’s eyes, normally as blue as a summer’s day, turned the dark violet of a coming storm. Tenderly, he cupped the back of her head for a moment. It felt strangely intimate, even more so than the night she’d walked in on them in the act.

“Was that the only time he hurt you?” Bucky said like he already knew the answer. Darcy turned to him, Steve’s hand falling away in the process. Bucky was the one shaking now, like a powder keg about to explode.

“No. He always had a temper. It started with blaming me for everything and critiquing every little thing I did. He was so charming on his good days that I convinced myself I could change him. He was always angry, though. The first time he hit me, I wasn’t even surprised.”

“Jesus, Darce.” Steve’s fingers twitched, like a man itching to punch something. For once, Darcy knew with certainty that something wasn’t her. How pathetic was it to find that idea novel?

“It’s the same cliche story after that. Boy apologizes and says he’ll never do it again. Girl shrugs it off as a one-time thing. Rinse and repeat until it becomes your new normal.” Darcy dug her fingernails into her palms until they stung. Gently, a hand wrapped around her wrist and pried her fingers loose.

She looked up at Bucky, who took his hand in her own as if to shield her from herself. “I’m so sorry, Darcy.” She shrugged.

“I should have left him earlier.” Steve sought and found her other hand and Darcy almost burst into tears. There was no judgment on either of their faces. Anger, yes, and disgust, but on Darcy’s behalf. To reveal how broken she was and not be cast off seemed impossible. For that exact reason, Darcy was still underplaying how bad Alex was to Jane and the rest of her friends.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself, Darce.” Steve's eyes pinned her in place. “You survived. That’s all anyone can do.” Darcy sniffled and told herself that it was the light making her eyes shine.

“There’s more,” Darcy forged on. She needed to get it all out before she fell apart. “A few days before my car broke down, I decided to leave him. This was not long after the glass throwing incident. I guess it was a wake-up call. But he’s… he’s been trying to find me. To be honest, I don’t understand why.”

This was the part she was most worried about. Steve and Bucky had enough drama of their own. What if they didn’t want her’s? “I’ve been on the run ever since. I think-- I know he’s looking for me.” Darcy drew in a steadying breath. “Alex owns his own private security firm. He also handles their tech and surveillance program. He’s very good with computers. Scary good. Think Keanu Reeves in the Matrix.”

Darcy turned a horrified look on Steve. “Please tell me--”

“I understood the reference, Darcy,” Steve replied soberly. Clearly, her attempts to lighten the mood weren’t working. At least that was one less film Darcy had to add to her ‘Make Steve Watch’ list. Steve put a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here.”

Darcy shook her head. Clearly, they didn’t understand how big of a threat Alex was. “I wish it were that simple. Even by being here, I’m putting the two of you at risk.”

Bucky seemed to suppress a scoff. “Darcy, Steve and I worked for the United States Army and later a special forces organization under military control. We can protect you from this asshole.” Darcy groaned.

“The two of you need to stop puffing your chests out and listen. It’s sweet that you want to help me. It… it means more to me than you know. But I’m a big girl, and I’ve been watching my back this long. I’m not about to drag the two of you into it.” She held up a finger before either one of them could interrupt.

“Alex, my ex, is bad news. Big time. My phone is a burner, prepaid for in cash because he can track my cell phone. When I went into the store to buy it, I wore a hoodie and sunglasses, because he knows how to get into surveillance camera footage. I haven’t been able to use any of my credit cards because he’ll be able to break into my account and track where I pulled money from.”

Steve and Bucky were trading looks, as they often did. Darcy was convinced they had an entire secret language communicated only through eyebrow movement. “Do you see now?” Darcy said. “How dangerous he really is? I’m not bringing you into this, so whatever caveman instinct to protect that you’re tapping into right now, you’re going to have to put a lid on it.”

“Darcy,” Steve tried again. He caught and held her eye. “This isn’t just about a sense of chivalry or honor. It’s not that we don’t think you can protect yourself. Honestly, I’m impressed by the steps you took to get to this point. Most people would have slipped up days ago.

The phone rang again and all three of them groaned. “That thing is driving me crazy,” Darcy exclaimed. “Do you mind if I pull the cord in the kitchen?” Bucky was still watching Darcy intently, but Steve nodded.

“Sure, Darce. I’ll unplug the ones upstairs.” Steve gave her shoulder another squeeze before disappearing around the corner. Bucky followed Darcy into the kitchen where she yanked the phone cord out of the wall, finally leaving them in silence. Upstairs, the second phone finally stopped ringing. Hopefully, that would do something to ease Darcy’s mounting headache.

“What are your plans for when you leave?” A ray of sunlight crested across Bucky’s brow. For once, Darcy could see everything he was feeling written across his face. “If that asshole comes after you again…”

“I don’t know, Buck. I’m still trying to figure that out. I’ve just been driving. When my money runs out, I’ll settle down somewhere and get a new job.” To be honest, Darcy didn’t have much of a plan. She’d been running too fast for her mind to catch up.

“And if he finds you again? Or if you want to go home? You can’t keep running forever, doll.” Bucky put one hand on the counter beside Darcy, leaning in close as if to shield her from the world around them. Coming from anyone else, the action would have made her feel trapped and uncomfortable. With Bucky, she only wished he’d step closer.

Steve still hadn’t come back down. She heard clattering as he moved around above them, but no footsteps coming down the stairs. “What?” Bucky asked quietly, reading the look on her face. The sunlight was now flickering in his eyes and he put up a hand to block it.

Darcy leaned in, almost whispering. “Steve should have come down by now.” Neither one of them moved, caught in a moment of silent tension. Upstairs, there was a muffled thump. They could have been overreacting. Steve could just be in the bathroom or getting ready to throw some laundry in. The hair on the back of Darcy’s arms stood up.

In thinking about it later, Darcy would attribute what she did next to two years of living in fear and weeks of being on the run. Dating Alex had not only forced her to live with fear but to embrace it. Maybe it made her paranoid, it certainly made her damaged, but fear was what was keeping Darcy alive.

So when the sunlight made its third pass across Bucky’s forehead, the reflection of an unknown object somewhere outside, Darcy’s eyes darted to the window on instinct. In the bushes behind the house, she saw for half a second the glint of metal.

Darcy was knocking Bucky to the ground before her brain knew what her eyes had seen. Above them, a vase exploded and crashed down onto the hardwood. Darcy screamed. Dutch, who had followed them into the kitchen, skittered around the corner and disappeared.

“I need to get to Steve,” Bucky urged, pulling Darcy to her feet. Another bullet ricocheted into the kitchen. The muffled thumps upstairs continued. Bucky pulled Darcy into the butler’s pantry, where there were no windows. The sound of more gunshots echoed outside. Bucky gently pushed Darcy behind the small counter there. She couldn’t stop shaking.

 _He’s found me_ , Darcy thought dazedly. Going in guns blazing wasn’t exactly Alex’s style, but if he was drunk, there was no telling what her ex might do. Or maybe her leaving had made him even more unhinged. Except, if Alex was outside… then who was upstairs?

Bucky glanced behind him while Darcy huddled against the counter. “Stay here and keep your head down. I’m going after Steve.” He was gone before she could protest, shutting the pantry door behind him. Darcy was too terrified to speak anyway. For all the self-defense training Natasha had given her, nothing could have prepared her for the real thing.

But as the seconds ticked agonizingly by, the gunshots stopped. Darcy put a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream as there was a gunshot followed by an electric whine from the hallway. She heard several pairs of boots running up the stairs.

Darcy stared in bewildered terror at the wine rack across from her. Assuming there was only one person upstairs, there had to be at least three strangers in the house. If Alex really was behind this, who the hell were the others?

There was the sound of glass shattering upstairs and muffled shouts followed. Steve and Bucky were both former soldiers who’d kept in shape, but if they were outnumbered by men with guns… Darcy pushed herself to her feet before she could think. If she stopped to think, she’d be frozen and useless. No matter how minuscule her aid might be, Steve and Bucky needed help.

Darcy remembered Bucky mentioning something about a shotgun in the hallway closet several days ago, kept on hand to fend off the mountain lions that lived in the Nevada desert. She slid the pantry door open as quietly as possible, hoping the ruckus of the fighting from upstairs would cover the sound of her footsteps.

Darcy crept cautiously around the corner and into the hallway. There was no one else in sight. As she had suspected, the front door was ajar. Someone had shot off the lock, then cut through the deadbolt with what Darcy assumed was a power saw. A chill went up her spine. Whoever this was, they’d come prepared.

Wrenching open the closet, Darcy scanned it for any signs of the shotgun. There! Darcy thought, spotting a bundle of cloth behind the shoe rack. When she unwrapped the roll of linen, she found herself holding a Remington. It was the first time she’d held a gun, let alone shot one. But the guys upstairs didn’t know that.

Trying not to pass out, Darcy forged her way up the stairs. The shotgun was heavy and awkward in her arms. She figured Steve and Bucky left the safety on and searched frantically for a way to undo it. Darcy had no clue what she was doing.

One of the two bases on the banister was broken. As Darcy turned the corner, a man in black tactical gear came flying out of the master bedroom and slammed into the wall. As Darcy watched, frozen in indecision, the intruder groaned and pushed himself onto his knees. He was a big, heavy-browed man with a mean look on his face.

He turned to Darcy as he climbed to his feet. “She’s out here!” He yelled over his shoulder. ' _Are they looking for me?_  ' Darcy thought. There was no time to digest that before the man was lunging for Darcy. Should she shoot him? Could she even bear to do such a thing?

So Darcy dropped the gun to her feet, (mercifully it didn’t go off), picked up the remaining vase, and slammed it into the oncoming man. He slumped to the ground and didn’t move. After a quick glance, Darcy saw to her immense relief that his chest was still rising and falling. Just unconscious, not dead.

Then the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed itself into her temple. “Hello, darling.” Darcy didn’t even need to look.

“Alex.”

\---

As Darcy stepped into the master bedroom, everything came to a stop all at once. There were four people inside: Steve, Bucky, and two men Darcy didn’t recognize. The sheets had been dragged off the bed and the photo of Steve and Bucky at the grand canyon laid smashed on the floor. There was blood on the frame.

“Rumlow,” Steve breathed, from where he was squatting on the ground, his knee on one of their attacker’s necks.

Darcy had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Bucky had stopped mid swing in his course to punch the man beside him and stood absolutely still as he surveilled Darcy, or more accurately the psycho with a gun to her head.

“Gentleman,” Alex scolded. “I suggest you step away from my men before things get…” Darcy whimpered as the gun dug further into the side of her skull, “ugly.” Even the sound of his voice was enough to make Darcy’s stomach turn. Some part of her, a part that made her ashamed to call herself a Lewis, shrunk and ran for cover at the sound of that voice.

Steve immediately rose, holding up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “It’s okay, Darcy. Just breathe,” he said, trying to soothe her. Easy to say when he didn’t have a pistol nestled at the base of his skull. After a tense moment in which she thought he might launch himself across the room and tear Alex apart with his bare hands, Bucky put his hands up as well.

“On your knees, both of you,” Alex ordered. Bucky was already partway down when one of the intruders kicked him in the back of the knee unnecessarily. It must have hurt, but Bucky didn’t make a sound. Darcy ground her teeth. If she got out of this alive, all of these assholes had it coming.

“I’ve been looking for you for several weeks, darling,” Alex chatted. If she didn’t know him so well, couldn’t see the cold deadness in his eyes, Darcy might have mistaken his tone for affectionate. “I’ve missed you. Have you missed me? I tried to call you, let you know I was going to stop by.” She could hear the sick humor in his voice.

 _The phones. Of course._ Darcy was an idiot. She opened her mouth to say something scathing in reply and immediately shut it. She’d spent almost two years learning to play Alex’s game. The skill may have dulled in the time she’d been away, but it hadn’t faded completely. It had helped her survive then. Maybe it would help her now.

“It’s hard for me to think when I’m scared, Alex. This reunion might fare better if you put the gun down.” Darcy felt him chuckle behind her. It wasn’t a happy sound.

“I wouldn’t have to be so rough,” he tightened his grip around the back of Darcy’s neck, “if you didn’t make me. You always go and do stupid shit like run away from me and then _I_ have to clean up your mess.” His tone was thickening with anger, but at least he wasn’t drunk. Darcy could always tell when he was.

“This is your ex?” Bucky asked, disbelief written on his face. “Darcy, that man is not named Alex. His name is Brock Rumlow.”

“Shut the fuck up,” one of the goon squad snapped and slammed the butt of his rifle on Steve’s back. Darcy flinched as Steve pitched forward. He caught himself on his hands however, and was upright again a second later, albeit with a pained look on his face.

“It’s alright, Rollins,” Alex, or Brock as Bucky claimed soothed. “I haven’t exactly been fair to my girlfriend. I’ve been holding out on her.”

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore,” Darcy snapped, before cranking her jaw shut. Now was not the time for temper, but it had gotten the better of her. The truth was, she was terrified with her back against the wall. What else could she do but lash out? How did you find me?"

"Well," Brock mused. "You did a pretty good job of covering your tracks. But when I saw a car part order for Darcy Lewis come up in my search..." Darcy watched the realization come across Bucky's face and tried to convey with her body that she didn't blame him. He looked devastated.

"How do you know Bucky and Steve?” Darcy burst out, hoping to take his mind off of whatever guilt spiral he was working himself into.

“Oh, old work friends,” Alex/Brock said casually. “But that’s not what I’m here for. You see,” Darcy couldn’t see him but sensed he’d turned his gaze elsewhere, “Hydra has known where the two of you have been living since you left Shield. We could have come after you any time we wanted.”

Hydra, Darcy remembered with alarm, was the group that kidnapped Bucky. Her ex was working for them? But hadn’t Bucky said he was a member of Shield just minutes ago? Nothing about this made any sense.

“What are you here for, then?” Steve said, with a calmness Darcy knew he wasn’t feeling.

“My darling here has something I want. Something that doesn’t belong to her.” Brock replied. Darcy scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” As much as she scanned her mind, Darcy couldn’t figure out what he could mean.“Yeah, I pawned a bit of your stuff to get some cash, but I don’t have it anym--” Darcy cut off with a shriek as Alex yanked her head brutally backward until she was staring into his eyes. She heard Bucky hiss under his breath.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Lie. To. Me. You know what you took, _dearest_.” There was no reasoning with him. Clearly, he’d gone insane.

Darcy needed to think of something, and quick. She hadn’t graduated with honors from Culver and landed a job working for one of the most brilliant scientists in the world without a good head on her shoulders. It was time to switch tactics.

“Alex, Brock, whatever your name is. I don’t know what’s going on.” Darcy let her very real terror leak in her voice, shifting into the pliant, vulnerable woman she’d been molded into during their relationship. Darcy wasn’t that woman anymore and would never be again, but Alex didn’t know that.

As much as it disgusted her, she forged on. “But what I do know is that we have so many good memories. I loved you.” That much was true, at least for the first while. After that, it had become more Stockholm syndrome than anything else. “Was everything we had fake? Did you ever even love me?”

Darcy felt the gun waiver, just slightly down toward her neck and away from her skin as Alex pondered what he would say. As her months of krav maga training with Natasha kicked in, Darcy wondered what he would have said. She would never know now, as she whirled in his grip and grabbed his gun arm with her left hand.

As she stared death in the face, Darcy realized she was fine not knowing. The answer didn’t matter to her anymore. The only question now was if she could move before he shot her.

But the gun never fired.

Darcy had no time to think about what that meant. She was bringing her right elbow into Brock’s shoulder a moment later, along with a knee into his groin. As he bent forward with a gasp, Darcy ripped the gun from his hands and slammed the butt into the back of his head. He crumpled like a bag of bricks.

As she turned, she saw that Bucky and Steve were making short work of the remaining thugs. Darcy almost forgot about the man who’d followed them in from the hallway. She remembered just in time to see him lunging toward her. At least, until a bullet exploded through his head. Darcy turned away before she could see his body drop, trying not to pass out.

She didn’t mourn the man’s life in any way. Anyone who was willing to attack, threaten and probably kill innocent people had what was coming to them. But actually seeing someone die was a horror Darcy wasn’t prepared for. Regardless, she was going to have to get over it. And fast.

“Go,” Steve yelled, when the rest of the men were (temporarily) incapacitated. “There might be others on the property.” Darcy shoved the gun at Bucky as soon as she could, having no interest in holding it any longer.

Darcy careened into the hallway, grabbing her bag from the guest bedroom on the way by. Maybe it was a waste of time, but all of her remaining cash and the few personal items she’d brought with her were stored in there. Her whole life was in the bag now.

They were almost to the door when Darcy remembered and circled back to the living room. She heard the boys curse before following her. Dropping to her knees, Darcy peered under the couch. “Just a second!” She told Bucky, who was urgently gesturing for her to run. Sure enough, a pair of large, slitted eyes peered out at her from the darkness.

“Make sure she gets out,” Bucky called to Steve, before running out the door. Darcy knew better than to think he was abandoning them. Whatever he was up to, it was important. Darcy turned her attention back to her task.

“It’s okay, girl,” Darcy soothed, wrapping an arm around Dutch and pulling her out from under the couch. Darcy hissed as the panicked cat sank her teeth into Darcy’s arm, but refused to let go until Dutchess was stowed safely in her arms. Darcy could hardly blame her.

“Darcy! Now!” Darcy glanced up into the whites of Steve’s eyes and sprinted towards the door. Steve had her back, the shotgun cradled in his arms. Darcy focused on trying to hold on to the squirming Dutch and not drop the duffel bag which was rapidly sliding down her shoulder.

“Get to the garage,” Steve ordered. The gate was hanging ajar. Someone, likely Alex or whoever he was, had hacked into it. Darcy had never run so fast in her life. She was jumping into the backseat of Bucky’s Jeep seemingly within a breath. He was waiting for her in the driver’s seat.

After Steve came barreling in, Bucky turned the key in the engine, which roared to life. Dutch leaped out of Darcy’s arms and dove under the passenger seat. Darcy cast one last glance at Mew Mew, her engine still propped open, before they were careening out of the garage and onto the road. A storm of dust swirled up around them.

“Keep your head down!” Steve yelled. A second later he was hanging half out the passenger side window, trading fire with their attackers. By the time the dust settled, they had left the house behind.

“Oh my Gods,” Darcy gasped. “Holy shit.” She dropped her head between her knees and focused on not throwing up. There were about a hundred different conversations she, Steve, and Bucky needed to have, but first, she needed to remember how to breathe again.

“They’ll be following us soon,” Steve panted, rolling his window back up again. “We need to ditch the car as soon as possible. I’m pretty sure there are bullet holes in the side of the trunk. We’re lucky we didn’t pop a tire.”

Bucky jerked his head toward the center dash. There was a pocket knife nestled behind the parking brake. “I bought us a bit of extra time. Slit the tires while Darcy was grabbing Dutchess.”

Bucky met Darcy’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “That was incredibly dangerous. I told you to stay in the pantry. Don’t ever risk your life like that again.” He was talking about more than just getting the cat.

Darcy had never seen Bucky so serious, which was quite a feat. She knew it was only because he was worried, but regardless, Darcy’s hackles were raised. “Excuse me, but are you lecturing me? I’m not going to apologize for saving your life! Or your cat’s.”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply with something, likely caustic, but Steve cut him off. “Bucky, please. There’s no point in arguing about this. We’re just glad you’re okay, Darce. But, Bucky and I are trained soldiers. We can protect you, but not if you throw yourself into harm’s way. I don’t intend to lose you.”

“I don’t intend to die, either.” Darcy dropped her head back between her knees. Dutch was laying down now, not quite as puffed up. She seemed to be relaxing. Darcy only wished she could do the same. “But that goes both ways. I wasn’t just going to leave you two alone to fight off all those guys. I won’t apologize for trying to help you.”

Bucky was still staring stonily at the road, but Steve sighed. “Thank you, Darcy. I’m sorry to get upset with you. I’m just--”

“Worried, I know.” Darcy swallowed heavily. “Then you understand how I feel. I’ve been watching my own back for so long that it takes some getting used to have other people trying to protect me.” Not that Jane or Thor or Nat wouldn’t have tried. If Darcy hadn’t been hiding te extent of her her abuse for the last two years. “I wasn’t counting on finding people I wanted to protect.”

For the next few minutes, they all sat in heavy silence. Bucky watched the road while Steve scanned the horizon behind them. Darcy managed to soothe herself out of another panic attack while she processed the events of the last hour. Her arm was throbbing where the cat had bitten her, and her whole body ached from her scuffle with her ex-boyfriend, but Darcy was alive.

Alive and in overload. Alex-- Brock-- whatever the hell his name was, had been lying to Darcy about his identity. Not only did he used to work with Steve and Bucky, but he was also stealing someone’s identity. Darcy felt like she was in a bad episode of 24. “We need to talk about what just happened.”

“Not now. Too close to the house.” Bucky replied. It was practically monosyllabic. So he was back to the cold, taciturn vet she’d met two weeks ago. Darcy had to admit it stung. Was he that angry with her?

As if sensing Darcy’s distress, Dutch finally crawled out from underneath the seat and hopped into Darcy’s lap. She butted her head against Darcy’s stomach, as if to apologize for biting her. “It’s okay, babe,” Darcy whispered. “Shit got crazy for everyone back there.” Bucky glanced back at them for a second, his face softening a bit when he saw the cat.

“It was still a stupid thing to do,” he muttered. “But it’s a relief to know the old girl is okay.” Steve elbowed him. “Thank you, Darcy.” Even if it was through gritted teeth, Darcy knew he meant it.

“Buck and I weren’t just in the army. Halfway through our first tour, we were recruited for a secret anti-terrorism initiative known as SHIELD. It’s a government agency, but it’s paramilitary. Bucky and I were agents. We know of Brock more than we knew him. He was part of one of the STRIKE teams, which means that as agents we ranked above him.” Steve carded a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“What do you mean you knew of him? Why?” Darcy asked. Bucky’s jaw was tight with distaste. Even the mention of Darcy’s ex seemed to set them on edge. The men traded looks, seemingly deciding what they should tell Darcy.

This, of course, sent her hackles rising. “Don’t you dare try and lie to me. I’m the one who had to endure him. I deserve whatever truth you can give me.”

Steve nodded, but he didn’t look pleased. “You’re right, Darce. We’re sorry. We knew of Rumlow more than we knew him. He worked for the same organization that we did, though in a different department.” Darcy was already shaking her head.

“Alex never worked for the government. He worked as a bouncer through college and then started his own private security company.” But even as she said it, Darcy realized that both they and Alex couldn’t be telling the truth, and Steve and Bucky had no reason to lie to her. It was just one more thing her ex-boyfriend had lied about.

“What can you tell me about him?” Darcy believed in knowing her enemy. Up until that afternoon, she thought she had. Now she found herself on a whole new playing field: one where she didn’t know the rules.

“Rumlow had a reputation in SHIELD, the group we worked for. A bad one,” Bucky chimed in. “He was a double agent inside the terrorist group that captured me. He worked surveillance. He played the role of a sadistic terrorist well. A little too well. There were rumors that he had flipped sides and talk about bringing him up on war crime charges, but all the evidence—“

“Mysteriously vanished?” Darcy guessed. Bucky nodded soberly.

“Steve and I retired not long after. Never heard much about him after. I assumed he was discharged, but apparently, he’s still working with the organization.” When Bucky had finished speaking, Steve rubbed his temples like he had a migraine coming on.

“I can’t believe Shield is compromised,” Steve muttered. “I knew Hydra had its claws in deep, but not this deep. How could Pierce ever have allowed this to happen?”

“Wait, Pierce?” Darcy leaned forward in her seat. “As in Alexander?”

Both of them turned to look at her, Bucky only briefly before turning his eyes back on the road. “How do you know that name?”

“That’s what I knew my ex as. Alexander Pierce.” For a moment, no one said anything. Steve looked even more upset than before.

“Alexander Pierce was our boss before we retired. He’s the head of Shield. Why or how Brock is going by his name, I don’t know.” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry, Darcy. I wish I could tell you what the hell is going on. For all our sakes. Right now, let’s just focus on staying alive.”

After a few tense miles, they pulled into a motel. There were only two cars in the parking lot. A sign on the front door announced that the owner was “Out for Lunch: Back at 1:30pm.” It was 1:16. Bucky parked at the far end of the lot. Surely, he and Steve weren’t planning to hide out here?

Darcy dragged a nervous hand through her hair as she hopped out of the car. Steve came around the other side and picked up Dutch. Now that the fighting was over, they’d have to find a place to stash her for the time being. “I was so careful.”

Darcy watched as Bucky pulled a small metal rod from the glove department, before circling around to the trunk and pulling out a duffel bag. When he opened it, Darcy saw it was full of supplies, including a stack of hundred dollar bills and a handgun. Darcy whistled when she saw the money, though it was more bravado than anything. That morning had left her badly shaken. “You keep that in your car all the time?”

“You never know what you might need. Or when.” Bucky replied. He closed the trunk and tossed the keys to Steve, who in turn passed Dutch to Darcy. “I scanned the lot on the way in. No security cameras. We need to make this quick, though.”

Bucky walked up to one of the two other cars in the lot, a black Chevrolet Hatchback, and jammed the rod into the lock. _He’s hotwiring it_ , Darcy realized. It was smart, if not risky as hell. Neither Steve nor Bucky seemed worried, however.

After a few, agonizingly long minutes, the car roared to life. “Hop in,” Bucky told Darcy, and by extension, Dutch. “Steve, follow me in the jeep. We’ll have to dump it in the desert somewhere.” Darcy climbed in the car and they followed Steve quickly out of the parking lot and back onto the desert roads.

There was still no sign of the thugs from earlier, but Bucky had been driving at top speeds, winding down as many detour streets in the small town they’d passed through as possible in an attempt to lose their pursuers. Steve veered suddenly off into the cracked Earth of the desert and Bucky cautiously followed. Unlike the Jeep, this vehicle wasn’t meant for off-roading.

Glancing at the cat lying on the dashboard, Darcy grabbed her phone and started googling pet boarders in the area with the last of the small amount of cellular data she’d purchased. Steve and Bucky had both thrown their phones out the window miles ago, knowing that if ‘Hydra’ had a beat on them, they could be tracked.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked, glancing quickly at Darcy’s phone. “I told you, you should ditch that phone.”

“Finding a kennel for us to drop Dutch off at. I’ll toss in a second.” Darcy dug in the glove department and found a pen and an old Panda Express napkin. She pushed away her guilt about stealing someone’s car. This was a matter of life and death. “I just need to copy down these directions first.”

“That’s too risky,” Bucky muttered. Darcy crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.

“And bringing a cat with us is not? You can’t bring a cat on the run, Bucky. Even if we could figure out the food and litter box situation, most motels won’t allow an animal inside. Even if they did, it’s too conspicuous. Besides, there’s no way in hell we’re just dumping her on the side of the road.

“Of course not,” Bucky defended. “Shit, Darce. I love that cat. I’m just trying to keep us _alive_.” Darcy gave him a pleading look and he groaned. “You learned those puppy eyes from Stevie, didn’t you? Alright, we’ll take the cat to the kennel. But we need to be quick. You can pay with the cash in the duffel bag. Now throw the phone.”

Finishing the last line of directions, Darcy rolled her window down and threw the phone out into the dust. “Relax. If he’d figured out how to track this phone, he wouldn’t have needed the car part order.”

Bucky’s face tightened. “I’m sorry again about that, doll. I led those bastards right to you.” Darcy stared at him in disbelief. Ahead of them, Steve pulled over behind a large, rocky outcropping and parked the car. Bucky parked behind him.

“Bucky, if anything, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” Darcy insisted.

“Apologizing for what?” Steve asked as she climbed into the back seat. He was still carrying the gun. Steve threw Bucky a quick nod, and they sped away from the car and back onto the road.

“For dragging you into my mess,” Darcy cried. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I can’t begin to apologize for how much I’ve fucked up your lives.”

Darcy could see Steve’s pitying look in the rearview mirror. Of course, he was too good of a man to be upset with her, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d destroyed their peaceful, happy home. They were on the run because of her, from the organization that had kidnapped and tortured Bucky. All because of Darcy. Once again, Darcy had to resist the urge to throw up.

“This isn’t your fault, Darcy,” Steve insisted. “I told you before. Besides, Brock and his operatives tracked you through us.” Darcy just smiled sadly at him. She knew the truth. Hydra had apparently been content to leave Steve and Bucky alone. It was Darcy that Alex/Brock was after, for whatever reason. That was why Steve and Bucky were still under threat. Because they were with her.

Darcy decided to let the subject drop, remaining more or less silent as they dropped off Dutch at the boarder’s. It put all of them in a melancholy mood, though Darcy knew it was for the best. She’d asked all the questions that Steve and Bucky could answer about Brock and SHIELD, and what they called HYDRA. Talking about anything else seemed ridiculous.

So she pretended to sleep while Steve and Bucky discussed their long term escape plans in hushed voices. As they ran through endless options from calling in favors with old friends to starting a new life across the Northern border, Darcy tried not to cry.

She knew the fairytale of the last two weeks could never last, but she had never expected it to come crashing down so spectacularly. Steve and Bucky were never going to want her as more than a fling, but now Darcy wouldn’t even be that.

Darcy knew what she had to do. Had known since they’d first pulled away from Bucky and Steve’s bullet-ridden home. It was only a matter of waiting. When the sky was darker than onyx and Darcy’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion, they pulled into another motel parking lot. This time to stay.

She kept silent as they paid for a single room in cash and headed upstairs to their second floor room. “Further away from the main entrance, but not too high up to jump if we needed to,” Bucky explained. How he planned to jump safely from two stories Darcy didn’t ask. She figured there was some secret-agent-soldier trick he wasn’t telling her.

In the room, Steve and Bucky briefly discussed sleeping schedules before Bucky disappeared into the bathroom for a much needed shower. He’d stayed in the car at the kennel and covered himself with a sweatshirt in the motel lobby, but there was still blood splattered across his knuckles and shirt. Darcy could probably use a shower herself.

“Hey, I’m going to get some ice from the machine in the hallway,” Darcy told Steve, once she heard the shower turn on in the bathroom. “You should both ice your knuckles and Gods know what else.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Steve said immediately. Darcy turned to him with a feigned lightness, praying he wouldn’t see the truth written on her face.

“I don’t think they followed us, Steve-o. Even if they did, they’ll come to the room first.” He seemed to be wavering. “I’ll be quick. I swear.” Reluctantly, Steve nodded.

Darcy looked for a long moment at him, and toward the bathroom where steam was pooling out from underneath the door. “It’ll just be a second.” When she got into the hall, Darcy hurried towards the stairs. She dropped the ice bucket in the hallway before heading down to the main lobby.

“Excuse me,” Darcy flagged down the waifish college student working the front desk. “If the guys I was with come down here, can you just… just tell them I’m sorry for everything? And that they don’t need to worry anymore?”

“Uh, sure. Whatever,” the kid replied. Darcy was already heading for the parking lot and the nearest out of sight vehicle. Bucky wasn’t the only one who knew how to hotwire a car.

Darcy made short work of it, climbing into the driver’s seat of a tiny Mazda in a matter of minutes. She’d had to leave her bag in the motel room, but it was a necessary sacrifice. She’d never be able to carry it out with her without raising alarm bells.

As she put the car into reverse and gunned it out of the motel parking lot, Darcy told herself that her memories of the people and things she cared about would have to be enough. Because she couldn’t go back to New Mexico until she figured out how to deal with Alex and she couldn’t drag Bucky and Steve down with her.

Darcy would deal with this the only way she could: alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... things just got a lot more complicated. I promise all of this will make a lot more sense in the future. Thank you for reading :)


	5. Lethe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating change. This chapter does contain explicit content.

Steve was never one to back down from a fight. He’d spent most of his childhood chasing down bullies twice his size with Bucky at his side. So when Darcy didn’t return from her trip to get ice for several long minutes and he found the empty bucket lying in the hallway, he had his fists up and ready to swing without a thought. 

A scan of the hallway turned up no impending danger, nor any signs of a struggle. With his heart in his throat and relying on his training as a soldier to help him fight through his panic, Steve burst back into their room and flung open the shower curtain. 

“You let her go out in the hallway alone?” Bucky demanded when Steve had relayed the whole tale to him. 

“I didn’t think there was a threat,” Steve snapped back, trying to swallow around his guilt. He’d have time to process it later when Darcy was safe. It had to be ‘when’. He couldn’t handle ‘if’. “We don’t have time for this.”

Bucky dressed quickly, his hair still wet as they headed for the lobby. The handgun Steve had tucked into the waistband of his jeans jostled against his back.  
Steve, following hot on Bucky’s heels, strode into the lobby only to find him interrogating the front desk clerk. 

“Did you see a woman come through here?” Bucky barked, practically snarling. The poor kid looked about ready to soil himself. Steve cleared his throat, quickly nudging his partner out of the way. 

“She’s a friend of ours. Curly black hair, glasses…” Steve said a bit more gently. “We came in with her earlier.” He cast a stern look at Bucky. Just their luck, the kid would probably think they’d kidnapped her. 

The kid straightened up a little, looking harassed. The sounds of a reality TV show buzzed outwards from his phone. “Yeah, I saw her. She told me to pass on a message. I think it was her anyway. You’re the ones she came in with you said?”

Even Steve was starting to lose his patience. It was harder to be charitable with his worry for Darcy tightening like a noose around his throat. “Yes,” he gritted, through clenched teeth. 

“She said to tell you she’s sorry and not to worry anymore, or something.” The clerk looked back down at his phone. “Is that it or did you need something else?” Bucky and Steve were trading dismayed looks. 

“That’s it,” Bucky replied, jerking his head toward the door. He and Steve headed for the car, both knowing what the other was thinking without a single word. _So Darcy hasn’t been kidnapped,_ Steve thought. _She’s run away._ Somehow, that was even worse. Especially since he had no idea why she would do such a thing. 

Steve couldn’t stop replaying his earlier conversation with her over and over in his head. He should have seen some warning sign, anything. But there was no point in dwelling on it now. 

Steve scanned the parking lot and saw, sure enough, that one of the cars was missing from when they’d arrived. Hadn’t Darcy mentioned that she could hotwire them earlier that day? The two men climbed into their own stolen car and gunned it out of the parking lot. 

The thought of losing Darcy at all was awful, but knowing she was out there alone with Rumlow and Hydra on her tail was horrifying. “Why is she running away?” Steve muttered. 

“We’ll find her,” was all Bucky said, as Steve sped toward the nearest town. Was she hiding out there, or had she kept on the desert highway headed toward state borders? They would have to guess. 

Steve prayed they guessed right. 

\---

 

There was nothing Bucky liked less than not being in control. He’d spent too many years with other people pulling the strings of his life and making his decisions for him. Once he had reclaimed his life and his mind, he’d swore to never again lose it. 

Trading control in the bedroom with Steve in games of dominance and submission was one thing. Bucky knew that the moment he wanted something to stop, it stopped. This was different.

Right now, all he wanted was for Darcy Lewis to come back to them, but he couldn’t simply call for mercy and have this pain stop. Her absence cut into him like a bullet wound. Hydra had taken too much from Bucky already. He wouldn’t let them have one of the two good things he had left in his life. 

It had never been a question of whether he and Steve would go after her. Hearing in that lobby that’d she’d left of her volition didn’t change anything. If Darcy truly didn’t want them, then they would accept that, but they needed to make sure she was safe, whether she liked it or not. Besides that, she owed them an explanation at the very least.

It was only a few miles into their chase that Bucky realized they’d messed up. They were trying to track Darcy like he would a target. He was assuming that she thought like an agent: clever and detached. Yet, their girl had twice the brains of any target and she was all heart. 

_Their girl._

The thought had slipped into his mind unbidden and as soon as it was there, there was no pushing it back down. Somehow over the past two weeks, Bucky had begun to think of Darcy as theirs. 

Certainly he and Steve had discussed the possibility of bringing on a third in their younger days. They’d just never met the right person. Then Bucky had been captured and any plans for their future had spiraled away from them. Now he was only realizing how much he still wanted that, wanted Darcy, when she was slipping through his fingertips.

“If you were Darcy Lewis, what would you want us to do?” Bucky asked, trying to keep some measure of control over his emotions. Worry, fear, and frustration would only stand in his way right now, so he shut them off. If there was one thing Bucky had learned from his time with HYDRA, it was how to compartmentalize. 

“Don’t you mean if I were Darcy Lewis, what would I do?” Steve asked. To anyone else he would look calm: a man holding up well in a bad situation. Bucky knew him better. They’d been best friends and then lovers long enough that Bucky could see the rattle of nervous energy beneath Steve’s skin. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. 

Bucky tapped his temple. “This is Darce we’re talking about. Whatever the reason she left, the last thing she’d want is for us to get caught by HYDRA because we stuck around looking for her.”

Maybe Darcy was fleeing because she didn’t trust her to take care of them, or because she didn’t feel the same as they did and their careful attempts to seduce her over the past few days had worn off. Maybe she now saw them as an extension of her abusive ex-boyfriend. 

Whatever the reason, Bucky knew she cared too much about other people. She’d try to minimize the damage to him and Steve as much as possible. 

“She’s counting on us driving straight out of town and chasing her through the desert,” Steve said, realization dawning on his face.

“As far away from harm, and her, as possible,” Bucky finished grimly. The squealing of tires on asphalt as Steve did a U-turn and sped back toward the motel was Bucky’s only answer. 

\---

It didn’t take Darcy long to figure out what she should do. In the time between deciding she needed to run away and pulling out of the motel parking lot, she had more or less constructed a plan. Darcy was nothing if not good at thinking on her feet. 

It felt risky, stupid even, but it was better than nothing. Right now, all Darcy wanted to do was get away from Bucky and Steve. Or more accurately, get them away from her. At least, that’s what she told herself. 

As she drove on the dark highway with nothing but the moon and an occasional passing car to light her way, Darcy took stock of her injuries. The bottom of her scalp ached from Alex/Brock yanking on her hair. She was sure her left arm was bruised from where he’d gripped her. 

Her wrist still ached from where Dutchess had bitten her earlier, but Darcy could hardly blame the cat. In the middle of this morning’s mess, Darcy would have bitten the first person she could get her hands on too, if she’d had the time. 

She’d washed it out with soap and water when they stopped for a bathroom break in a gas station a few miles ago, but she hadn’t bothered mentioning it to the boys. Compared to their injuries from the fight, it was nothing. Darcy’s overall assessment: she’d survive. She’d had worse. She’d had worse from Brock. 

After a few miles, Darcy caught sight of a large, rock outcropping a few yards off the road. It was as good a place as any, and she dared not go any farther. If she tried to drive, she might fall asleep at the wheel. If a car crash didn’t await her in her dreams, images of a bullet going through one of her attacker’s foreheads would.

Besides, Darcy would be conspicuous in any store she went in. A woman traveling alone late at night would draw attention. If Steve and Bucky quizzed people about her, they might be able to direct them Darcy’s way. 

So Darcy pulled the car off the road and behind the rock, similar to what they’d done with Bucky’s car earlier. She killed the engine and got out of the car, crouching in the dark to wait. It didn’t take long. 

What felt like mere minutes later, a dark Chevrolet hatchback whipped down the highway headed the way Darcy had been going. It was them. It must have been. When she was sure they were far enough down the road, Darcy climbed back in the car and turned left on the deserted road. 

Heart in her throat, Darcy sped back to the motel. Tears gathered at the corners of her lashes and she rolled her window down so she could blame it on the wind. She would never see them again and there was nothing to do about it but keep her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road. 

As much as Darcy would love to hide the car somewhere, she couldn’t risk the owner reporting it stolen and the desk clerk reporting Darcy’s sketchy behavior. Instead, she returned it exactly where she had found it on the off chance the owner returned for it in the next few hours. 

She would catch a few hours of sleep, just enough to function on, then get the hell out of here. Steve and Bucky should be long gone by then, chasing her shadow. Or if they returned here, they’d have no idea that Darcy was right where they’d last seen her only a few rooms away.

There was no way the couple would remember what cars were in the lot when they’d arrived, nor that one was missing. Let alone would guess that Darcy had taken one and returned to the motel. If the same car was still there in a few hours, Darcy would take it. If not, she’d steal another one. 

Darcy shook her head in disbelief at her thoughts as she crept out of her car and toward the back door that she’d left propped open with a small branch. What had her life become? She supposed she had no one to blame but herself. 

Darcy slipped in the hallway, pulling the stick out behind her and walked as nonchalantly as she could through the hall. As luck would have it, she nearly ran into a woman storming out of one of the rooms.

“You were supposed to meet me here, Grant,” the woman whispered as she leaned in the doorframe to her half-open room. She was wearing a long coat that appeared to have suspiciously little under it. “You said you were leaving her.” 

Darcy winced as the other woman wiped at her heavily made-up eyes and listened to whatever ‘Grant’ was saying over the phone. “Fuck you,” the woman finally hissed. “I already paid for a room. Fuck you, I’m going home.” Taking her bag with her, the woman charged down the hall, nearly knocking Darcy over as she did. 

Darcy, scarcely believing her luck, caught the door before it swung shut. She slipped inside with not a soul to see her do it. There was that problem solved. 

Locking the door behind her, Darcy surveyed the room. There was an open bottle of champagne on the table, but the bed looked untouched. Darcy wished she could just go upstairs and grab her stuff (if it was still there), but Darcy’s things disappearing was something the boys definitely would notice.

Darcy took a short, completely un-relaxing shower and then crumpled onto the sheets. She set the alarm clock by the bed for three hours from now and closed her eyes. She didn’t dare stay any longer. Hopefully, the exhaustion of the day would knock her out quickly. 

When Darcy next woke, it was not to the blaring of an alarm, but knocking at the door. She glanced at the clock and saw that it had been just over an hour. Terror leapt in Darcy’s throat. 

Maybe it was just Grant, showing up after all. If so, she could just tell him he had the wrong room. But Darcy wasn’t convinced. More likely it was Brock, having found her again. She just prayed Steve and Bucky were far enough away to be safe. 

As the knocking stopped and a strange scratching started near the lock, Darcy scrambled to her feet and searched for a weapon. She yanked the lamp cord out of the wall and held it aloft. She wasn’t going down without a fight. 

Darcy was just brandishing the ceramic over her head when the door slid open. Instead of a group of thugs led by her abusive ex-boyfriend, it was Steve and Bucky who stepped inside.

The three of them stared at each other in the darkness. Darcy let the lamp drop to her side. Steve turned the lights on and shut the door behind him. A weak noise escaped Darcy’s throat as he locked the door. As panicked as she was to be caught, she couldn’t deny that seeing them again settled something restless deep inside her. 

Darcy glanced between her and the door. There were two ex-soldiers, both well over six feet of pure muscle standing between her and escape. The window wasn’t an option either. Darcy had checked it earlier only to find that it didn’t open. 

So she slumped into a chair and tried to avoid looking at either one of them. Darcy felt about ready to vibrate out of her skin. “didn’t even check in at the front desk.” Darcy growled, frustrated with herself. 

Finally, she looked up at them. Bucky’s jaw was tight and Steve’s eyes were endlessly deep. Darcy realized with terror that she couldn’t read either one of their expressions. “How did you find me? How did you even know to look here?” 

Bucky paced like an animal in a cage. It should have scared her, knowing what she did about his past. But Darcy knew Bucky well enough to know that he’d put a bullet through his own skull before he hurt her. The realization startled her so much that she almost missed Steve’s reply. 

“We knew you wouldn’t want us to stick around here looking for you. That you’d want us to get as far away from Rumlow as possible. So where better to hide than right where you’d run from?” There was a note of bitterness in the soldier’s voice that Darcy had never heard before. She was sorry to have been the one to put it there. 

It was the one thing Darcy hadn’t counted on: how well the boys knew her. Because despite her best efforts, they had snuck in past her defenses. No matter how smart she was, or how careful, she had given them a piece of her heart and it had led them right to her like a fucking compass. 

“What about the room, then?” Darcy knew she was stalling, but she so badly did not want to have this conversation. “I picked one at random. It was supposed to be under someone else’s name. Never even went to the front desk.”

“They have security cameras here,” Steve said dryly. “I gave the kid twenty bucks to see the footage. It was a smart plan, Darcy. Under other circumstances, I might compliment you on it.”

“Twenty bucks,” Darcy echoed. That was the price that had ruined her escape? “That shrimp at the front desk couldn’t even hold out for a fifty?” The joke fell flat. Neither of the men even cracked a smile. 

“Why did you run, Darcy?” Bucky asked, blunt as ever. 

“You’re kidding right,” Darcy burst out. She let out a bitter laugh. “Why did you even come after me? I drag a terrorist group into your living room, destroy your house and almost get you killed. I figured you’d never want to see me again.”

Bucky and Steve traded disbelieving looks and Darcy shrunk even further into her seat. She didn’t know what they were thinking and that unnerved her. “Darcy, do you think we blame you for what happened today?”

Darcy stared at her feet as she answered. “Why wouldn’t you? It’s my fault, after all.” She looked up when she saw a pair of feet approaching. Bucky crouched in front of her. Along with anger, there was a tenderness in his face that made Darcy’s chest ache. 

“Doll, none of this is your fault. Not what Rumlow did to you in the past. Not what happened today.” Darcy scoffed, turning her face away from him. He gently grasped her chin and turned her head right back. A moment later, Steve also crouched by her side. 

“You still haven’t answered my question, Darce,” Steve said gently. When he put a hand on her knee, the simple contact seemed to soothe some of the tension from his body. “Why did you try and run from us?”

“To protect you,” Darcy said. “You heard what Al--Brock said. Hydra might have known where you were, but they only came after you because of me. The life you two had built together is destroyed.” 

Tears burned at the back of her throat. “Just being around me puts you in danger. It’s me he’s after. If I leave, then you’re safe.”

Bucky shook his head, muttering something in what sounded like Russian under his breath. “Wrong.”

Darcy bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Everything you just said is wrong,” Bucky retorted. “Darcy, sooner or later Hydra would have come after us. You don’t know them like we do. They’ll never let us go, whether you’re around or not.” 

“He’s right,” Steve added. He was stroking Darcy’s knee in an admittedly distracting manner. “Don’t apologize for dragging us into this, because we were already in it. Now we’re in it together.” 

Bucky’s hand moved to cup the back of Darcy's neck, rubbing soothing circles there as if to chase away the memory of Brock’s grip there. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault either.”

Darcy felt the tears on her cheeks before she could stop them. “You two would be better off without me. Whatever this is between us, I don’t want it to hurt the two of you.”

Steve only shook his head. His hand slid farther up Darcy’s knee until it was gripping a dangerously high spot on her thigh. Darcy’s breath stalled in her throat. “Sweetheart, Bucky and I have been trying to hint at this since you walked in on us in bed, but maybe we haven’t been direct enough. We want you.”

Darcy was having a hard time breathing. “Yes, I… figured that. But a fling isn’t worth--”

“Not a fling,” Bucky interrupted, leaning into Darcy’s space until she could feel the heat of his lips against her neck. “We want you to be our third, Darcy. Maybe this is moving fast, but the idea of losing you scares the shit out of us. So don’t you ever say that we’d be better off without you.”

Darcy was full on crying now. She couldn’t help herself, caught between so many conflicting emotions. Arousal joined them as Bucky brushed the tears away with his lips. Steve’s hand inched higher. He scanned her intently.

“We believe this is worth fighting for, Darcy, if you’re willing to try. If you don’t want us,” Steve’s eyes saddened at the words, “we’ll understand. We intend to protect you regardless.”

Steve’s hand left her thigh and Bucky leaned back, clearly they were trying to give her some space to think without her cavewoman instincts making rash decisions for her. “We’re in this together, Darcy Lewis,” Bucky murmured. 

Maybe it was just lust talking or exhaustion. Maybe Darcy was just tired of running and latching onto the first feeling of safety she’d had weeks. Or maybe these two men made her feel wanted and seen in a way that no one else ever had. Maybe Darcy had known from the moment she’d met them that they would change her irrevocably. 

Whatever it was, Darcy leaned in and kissed Bucky Barnes.

She felt his victorious grin against her lips. A moment later, another set of lips latched onto her neck. Darcy sighed into Bucky’s mouth as Steve's hand slid back up her thigh again. He nipped playfully at her collar, then did it again harder when Darcy let out a pleased gasp. 

Before she’d had time to adjust to the fact that this was really happening, hands slid around her waist and Darcy found herself tossed over Bucky’s shoulder. “Sergeant Barnes!” She shrieked. 

Bucky landed a slap on her ass in response, which elicited an unexpected spike of warmth in her stomach. In the morning, Darcy had a clusterfuck and a half to deal with. But for now, she was going to fully enjoy herself.

Bucky dropped Darcy gently onto the bed and a moment later he was climbing over her. “Sargent? Little formal for the bedroom, don’t you think?” He glanced slyly at Steve, who appeared at his side and pulled Darcy into a hungry kiss. 

“Although,” Bucky continued, “I’d be lying if I said Steve and I hadn’t pulled rank in bed once or twice before.” The idea of them together in any context was enough to bring a purr to Darcy’s chest. Steve must have noticed because he grabbed Bucky and landed one on him. 

Darcy watched, breathless, as their hands wandered over broad shoulders and narrow waists. “Does it turn you on, Darcy?” Steve asked, pulling away from his lover. “Seeing us together? Do you like to watch?” He was so much bolder in bed than he was out of it. 

“Clothes off, now,” Darcy squeaked, pulling off her shirt. They complied, stripping off their own shirts and baring toned flesh. Darcy wanted to trace each and every scar with her tongue. 

Before she had a chance to pounce on them, Bucky was grasping her breasts with an awed look on his face. “You’re a goddess, doll.” He pulled down the cups of her bra and wrapped his lips around one nipple, rolling the other between his fingers like he was playing an instrument. 

Darcy squirmed beneath his ministrations and Steve helped her shimmy out of her jeans. He chuckled. “Buck’s always had a thing for breasts and yours are gorgeous. All of you is gorgeous.” He laid a kiss on Darcy’s hip bone and she blushed. 

“Shit, wait. I’m clean and I have an implant,” Darcy panted out. It was hard to focus when Bucky was still massaging her breasts with his hands and teeth. Experimentally, he pinched one nipple between his fingers before soothing it with his tongue. 

“We’re both clean too,” Steve murmured, his hand sliding along the band of her underwear, brushing teasingly at the heat that lay beneath the fabric. “Is there anything we need to talk about? Things you like, don’t like…” 

“Uh, I don’t think so?” Darcy said. Though Brock had left her with many issues, none of them were sex-related, thank the Gods. 

Darcy let out a long moan as Steve leaned down and began lapping at her slit through the fabric of her panties. When she jerked her hips up, he grasped her calves and pinned them down. 

“Stevie and I have a safeword,” Bucky whispered, dedicating his mouth to leaving hickeys on her neck while his hands continued their work on her breasts. “You should have one too.”

Darcy tried to imagine what they might need a safeword for and found her cheeks glowing with heat. “Pomegranate,” she whispered, the mythology minor in her rearing its head. 

Bucky smiled and pulled away from her neck, propping himself up behind her and pulling Darcy so she was leaning against him, facing Steve. She could feel Bucky’s arousal pressing against her back. 

Steve tugged Darcy’s panties carefully down her legs, exposing her to him. When Darcy reflexively went to close her legs, embarrassed, Bucky hooked his ankles over hers and held her legs open for Steve to see. 

Darcy held her breath as Steve knelt between her legs, but instead of putting his mouth on her pussy, he began to kiss and nip at her thighs. “God, Darce, you’re so wet for us.” 

“Steve,” Darcy whined when he still hadn’t touched her core in several agonizing moments. “Please.”

“Please what, doll?” Bucky murmured against her ear. He tugged sharply on one of her breasts. “Tell him what you want.”

“Please put your mouth on me,” Darcy begged. Steve’s smile was more mischievous than she’d ever seen it. 

“My mouth is on you, sweetheart,” Steve replied. Darcy practically growled at him. This had to be punishment for running away from them. Why else would they be trying to drive her insane?

“Please put your mouth on my pussy,” Darcy relented. “I want to feel your tongue inside of me.” She thought her face might burst into flames, but it was worth it when Steve’s mouth finally latched onto her core. 

He began to lap eagerly and with skill at Darcy’s slit. After a moment, Steve pushed a finger inside her as well. Darcy put a hand over her mouth to stop the pornographic noises leaving her, but Bucky pried the hand away. 

“No, pretty girl,” he purred into her ear. “Let us hear those lovely sounds.” As it turned out, Bucky’s silver tongue carried over into rampant dirty talk in the bedroom. He kept up a steady stream of it, a mixture of filth and praise, as Steve ate her out. 

After barely a few minutes, Darcy found herself racing toward the edge. “That’s it doll,” Bucky purred. “Fall apart for us.” Darcy cried out in response, feeling the heat out her first orgasm race through her. 

Steve kept lapping at her clit as she rode out the aftershocks, almost to the point of overstimulation, finally he pulled away and grinned up at them. Bucky leaned over Darcy’s shoulder and he and Steve shared a long, heavy kiss. 

“You taste delicious, Darcy,” Bucky said as he pulled away, licking his lips. Darcy buried her face in his chest, mortified. 

“You suck,” she grumbled. 

“Actually, I suck,” came Steve’s reply. Darcy glanced at him in shock while Bucky’s laughter rumbled against Darcy’s chest.

“Et tu, Brute?” Darcy asked. “He’s a corrupting influence on you, Steve.” The two of them only laughed. Bucky shifted again, urging Darcy onto her knees. 

“You know, Buck, I don’t think she’s sorry enough for scaring us like she did,” Steve murmured, pulling off his belt and pushing his boxers down. Darcy’s mouth watered. His cock, like the rest of him, was quite tantalizing. 

“I think you’re right Stevie,” Bucky replied from somewhere behind her. Darcy jumped as another smack landed on her ass. Darcy was surprised she wasn’t dripping onto the bed sheets she was so turned on. 

“I am sorry,” Darcy whined, wrapping one hand around Steve’s member. He stilled her grip before she could begin stroking, however. 

“I think you need to show us,” Steve mused. “How many orgasms do you think you can handle, sweetheart?” Another smack. 

“Um… two? Maybe three if I really tried,” Darcy replied. Bucky tsked as Steve started guiding her hand in slow jerks. 

“I don’t think that’s going to do it,” Steve murmured. “Bucky, how many cameras worth of footage did we need to look through?”

“Four of them,” Bucky replied, and brought his hand down again. Darcy moaned, and let Steve guide her head down to his waiting arousal.

Darcy wrapped her mouth around the head of Steve’s cock, the memory of that night she’d seen Bucky do the same flashing into her head. “Four orgasms sounds, ah, about right, then,” Steve moaned. A shiver went down Darcy’s spine. 

“Do you think you can handle that, Darcy?” Bucky asked, the teasing going out of his voice. “Remember, if anything gets to be too much just say your word and we’ll stop immediately.”

Darcy didn’t know if she could handle it, but she was game to try. Pulling her mouth off of Steve, she turned to grin at Bucky. “I think the question is, can you boys handle me?” Bucky’s answering grin made her heart melt, just a little. 

Leaning back down, Darcy took Steve in her throat once more, trying to give the best blowjob of her life while Bucky slid two fingers into her. Steve rested his hands in Darcy’s hair but didn’t tug, seeming content to let her take it at her own pace. His soft moans were all the incentive Darcy needed to keep going. 

After he’d judged her thoroughly stretched, Bucky said, “are you ready for my cock, doll?” Darcy hummed her agreement and Steve said an uncharacteristically filthy word in response to the stimulation. 

Darcy’s jaw went slack for a moment while Bucky’s impressive length pushed slowly into her. When he was fully sheathed, Bucky spanked her again before setting a punishing pace. 

Darcy certainly wasn’t complaining. Steve finally had to start guiding her, not because he was getting impatient, but because Darcy was so pleasure drunk that she couldn’t find her rhythm. 

“Darcy,” Steve groaned, as Darcy approached her second orgasm of the night. “Your mouth is so perfect. You’re so perfect. Such a good girl for us.” The words were what sent her over the edge, spiraling into oblivion. 

Bucky cursed as her walls clamped around him. After a few more strokes he pulled out, gently moving a panting Darcy to Steve’s side before taking her place over Steve’s cock. Darcy watched raptly as Bucky took his boyfriend down his throat.

“Deja-vu, huh, Darce?” Steve chuckled weakly, before breaking into a moan. Darcy ran her hands over the lines of his pecs, pulling him in for another kiss. She’d never get tired of kissing these two. 

Bucky tapped Darcy’s thigh, still working steadily away at his blowjob. Darcy glanced at Steve for a translation of the gesture, though he didn’t seem much more coherent than she did. 

“He wants to see you touch yourself,” Steve said, with as close to a leer as Darcy figured he was capable of. “We’d both like to see that, actually.” Darcy was too far gone to even be embarrassed.

Her clit was already swollen and sensitive when she found it with her fingers, sliding one and then another up inside herself. Steve beckoned Darcy closer, sliding a third finger in alongside her two. 

It was almost too much sensation, and mercifully Steve didn’t tease, just let her rock slowly against her calloused palm until she went tumbling over into her third release of the night. 

A moment later, Steve cried out his release, which Bucky swallowed without hesitation. Fuck, the two of them would be the death of her. The place between Darcy’s thighs ached and she was beyond exhausted. She thought she might fall asleep any minute.

“Can you handle one more, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, cradling Darcy in his arms. He was still hard, having pulled out of her earlier before he’d orgasmed. “If you need to stop, it’s okay.”

Darcy honestly wasn’t sure if she could, but looking at their encouraging faces, she wanted to try. “I can do it.” Steve brushed the hair out of Darcy’s face with a tired smile as Bucky settled her onto his cock.

Luckily, Bucky seemed content to bounce into her, because Darcy definitely didn’t have the strength to ride him. Darcy was so sensitive she could hardly bear it. Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes at the pain and pleasure she had wrought upon her body, but they were the good kind of tears. 

Steve’s tender hands massaged her clit as Bucky fucked her, trying to bring Darcy to the edge that seemed so impossibly far away. She buried her face in the blonde’s chest and whimpered. “I can’t, please, I--”

“Shh,” Bucky whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “You can do this, doll. Come on, just one more.” He kissed her and Steve pressed what was likely another hickey into her collar. 

Somehow, someway, Darcy could feel herself climbing toward some sort of release. She was almost shaking with overstimulation, but seeing the pride on her men’s faces was enough to push her into a final orgasm. 

Bucky followed not long after, releasing his warmth inside of her in a way that had Darcy trembling. Both of the men helped Darcy to lay back on the bed, soothing her with soft touches and praising words. 

Darcy whined when Steve rose from the bed and he kissed her forehead in response. “I’m just going to get a washcloth. I’ll be right back.” 

When they were all suitably cleaned and dressed, the trio headed back up toward their actual room. Bucky was sweet enough to carry Darcy there, and not over his shoulder this time. 

“We’ll take shifts sleeping,” Bucky said as they settled onto the bed together, “and leave early tomorrow morning.” Darcy tried to ignore the gun resting on the bedside table. “I’ll take the first shift,” Bucky continued. 

As she lay sandwiched between the two of them, Darcy shut out everything else but their embrace. She would have to face the music and the uncertainty of the future at some point. But for now, she was blissfully happy. 

All this time she had been thinking of these men as Achilles and Patroclus, heroic lovers with no space between them for a woman like Darcy. But Darcy knew better than anyone how evolving and complex mythology was. 

There was always another hero, always another myth. Who was to say they couldn’t write their own story? Why couldn’t Darcy be a greek goddess, the third in Achilles and Patroclus’s triad? While she was at it, Darcy might as well make herself Hercules, slayer of monsters.

If she was going to destroy Hydra, she’d need all the heroism she could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who aren't familiar with mythology, Heracles is the one who killed the monster known as Hydra, which is why Darcy references him. Patroclus was a close friend (and many think lover) of the warrior Achilles. They're one of the most well known LGBT couples in Greek mythology.


	6. Asphodel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for abusive and sexually demeaning language (not from Steve and Bucky, obviously)

Darcy woke to the smell of cheap oatmeal. She was disappointed to find herself alone in bed when she woke up, but Bucky was standing only a few feet away in front of the tiny kitchenette. He saw that Darcy was awake and strode over to her, pulling her into a long kiss that sent Darcy’s toes curling. “Good morning gorgeous.”

 

“It’s too early for sweet talk,” Darcy grumbled. “Not before I’ve had my--” before she could finish the sentence, Bucky was handing her a cup of coffee. Darcy took a relieved sip, too tired to even be embarrassed at how predictable she was. “Where’s Steve-O?”

 

“He’s doing a patrol of the building, making sure nothing’s wrong. We’ve been doing one every hour.” Of course they had. Bucky checked his watch. “He should be back in the next three minutes.” Apparently, they had it down to a science. 

 

The microwave dinged, signaling the readiness of the food Darcy was smelling. She wrinkled her nose as Bucky handed it to her. “Microwave oatmeal?”

 

“I know, doll, not exactly the breakfast in bed I wish I could lavish on you, but it’s what we’ve got.” He smirked. “Besides, you need to replenish your energy after all the screaming you did last night.”

 

“Shut up,” Darcy mumbled happily, hiding her face behind a throw pillow. Someone knocked four times on the door, three long, one short. A moment later, Steve walked in. He too drew Darcy in for a kiss as soon as he saw she was awake. 

 

Darcy refused to let herself melt like she wanted to. Now was not the time to get soft and sappy. As soon as they set foot out the lobby door, they were on the run again. She couldn’t let a night (and early morning) of incredible sex distract her from that. 

 

Maybe she, Bucky, and Steve would get their happy ending. There was no telling, of course, what would happen down the line. A relationship with two people was hard enough, let alone three. But at the very least, Darcy wanted a fair shot at her fairytale and that meant surviving Hydra first. 

 

On that note, it was time for a plan. “So, we need to talk. Steve don’t look so much like a kicked puppy, I’m not going to run away again.” She gestured with her bandaged arm for the two of them to sit down.

 

After their… fit of passion last night, Steve had noticed the bite on Darcy’s arm. Bucky had cleaned and wrapped the wound with the mountain of supplies he seemed to have in his emergency bag while Steve scolded her for not telling them she was hurt earlier. To which Darcy replied, “when was I supposed to do that? In the middle of a blowjob?”

 

Bucky thought the joke was hilarious. Steve gave her a twenty-minute lecture on bacterial infection. _All in all_ , Darcy thought, _not the worst pillow talk I’ve been subjected to_. 

 

Once both of the boys were sitting, Darcy launched into her spiel. Her goal was to speak as fast as possible without stopping to breathe. She already knew that both Steve and Bucky would think it was too dangerous, so she needed to get it out there before they had the chance to argue with her. 

 

“I think I know what Brock is after. I stole a watch from his nightstand the day I left Puente Antiguo. He had a couple of them, but it was expensive. I pawned it for $150.” Darcy looked worriedly between the two men. “I’m not a thief. I’ve never stolen anything before. It’s just that all my money is in a joint bank account that he controls--”

 

“Darcy,” Steve interrupted, putting a warm hand on her shoulder. Even the simple contact was enough to send a shiver of interest through Darcy which she brushed away. They had way too many problems to fix before any more sexy times could be had. “It’s alright. I don’t blame you in the slightest.”

 

Bucky nodded his agreement. “Hell, you could have stolen every penny he owned and I’d pat you on the back. That bastard more than owes you.”

 

He was right of course, but relearning her self-worth was an ongoing process. “I remember where the pawnshop is, though it’s only a few hours outside of where I live, so we need to be careful. If Brock has Hydra and gods know who else backing him up, he might be having the local area patrolled.”

 

“You want to go back for the watch,” Steve interrupted. Bucky frowned. 

 

“Doll, that’s way too risky.”

 

“Everything we do right now is risky, Buck,” Darcy argued. “You heard Brock back at the house. He said that I stole something from him. The watch is the only thing I took. That has to be it.”

 

“Darcy--” Steve tried, gearing up to argue with her as well. At least, Darcy was pretty sure that’s what he was doing. She could see it written in his face.

 

“We can’t keep running forever, Steve. Bucky, I’m tired of this. I miss my friends, my mother. And I’d like a chance to go on a real date with the two of you, and I can’t do that if we’re hiding from a terrorist organization in the middle of the desert, capiche?”

The two were silent for a moment, exchanging wordless glances. This whole secret conversation with their eyes thing was starting to annoy Darcy. Suddenly, Steve turned back toward her. “Darcy, what do you plan to do with the watch when you get it?”  


“Give it back to Brock,” Darcy all but whispered. Neither one of them looked surprised, but neither one of them looked pleased either. “If the watch is what he wants, we give it back to him and he leaves us alone.”

 

Neither one of them seemed convinced (quite honestly neither was Darcy) but it was better than running to nowhere for the rest of their lives. Steve rubbed his temples like he had a migraine coming on. “Trying to get anywhere near Rumlow would be a suicide mission. A face to face meeting is bound to be a trap.”

 

“Who said anything about face to face?” Darcy said. “Look, do you have any better ideas?”

 

“We have contacts, old friends who might be able to help us out,” Bucky insisted. “We could call in some favors.”

 

“Are these old friends from Shield, by any chance?” Darcy asked. Bucky frowned.

 

“Among other places.”

 

Darcy nodded, pleased with intuition “So who’s to say they’re not compromised? Even if they aren’t, I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess. At least, not unless it’s a last resort.” She looked pleadingly between them. “We have to at least try.”

 

They did the eye thing again. When this was all over, Darcy was definitely going to have a chat about verbal communication. Then Bucky turned to her with a sigh. “What’s the name of the pawnshop?”

 

\---

 

Darcy took an uneven breath, trying to keep her knees from wobbling. She shouldn’t be this scared, not over a simple phone call, but she was admittedly nervous as hell. Darcy planned on giving Brock their location, after all. 

 

Well, giving was a strong word. Perhaps ‘staying on the line long enough for him to trace her location’ was more accurate. Either way, Darcy was walking a very dangerous line, one she had pulled her newfound lovers onto as well. 

 

“Ready?” Steve asked. His voice was almost lost in the rush of the wind. They were at the only bus stop in the small town Darcy had pawned the watch at. The same watch that was currently burning a hole in her pocket. 

 

Getting it back had been easier than Darcy thought. No one had fired at the car on the long drive back to the outskirts of New Mexico. No Hydra agents jumped out at them when they went into the pawnshop. The store clerk wasn’t a secret agent in disguise. Just a greasy, middle-aged man who looked disappointed that Darcy had actually come to get the watch back. 

 

Whether he would have tried to stiff her the money or not, Darcy would never know. One look at Steve and Bucky lurking behind her had the man handing over the watch with a smile and nervous stutter. Darcy, for her part, handed him the $150 with a grimace. 

 

That was just another reason why this exchange needed to work. They would be running out of cash pretty soon if they kept burning through it the way the had been. Unfortunately, searching the glove compartment of the cars they’d stolen had only turned up candy wrappers and ownership deeds that could incriminate the three of them.

 

“Darcy!” Steve exclaimed. He looked worried. 

 

“Sorry, what did you say?”

 

“I asked if you were ready.” He glanced warily back at Bucky, who was waiting in the car idling a few feet away. This time it was a beaten-up Chevy Tahoe. Its actual owner had broken the radio knobs and replaced them with alligator clips, or as Bucky jokingly called them, “roach clips”.

 

“Yes, sorry,” Darcy replied. “I’m just a bit nervous.” She thought of the watch again. Despite their careful searching, poking, and prodding, none of them had been able to uncover any sort of secret message or device inside the watch. 

 

As far as Darcy could tell it was just a normal timepiece. A normal timepiece that Brock wanted very badly, for whatever reason. Steve squeezed her hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make the call?”

 

“No,” Darcy said, taking a steadying breath. It was time for her to buck the hell up. She wanted to be done with Brock, once and for all. “I’ve got it.” Then she dialed the phone number that she would probably never be able to forget.

 

It rang three times. Darcy thought it might go to voicemail. Then-- “Alexander Pierce speaking.”

 

“Hello, Brock.” Darcy hoped her voice wasn’t shaking. She was satisfied to hear a moment of silence over the line. She’d surprised him. 

 

“Darcy, darling. What an unexpected surprise.”

 

“I’m not calling you for small talk,” Darcy said. She was doing an excellent impression of a badass, really, for someone who was about to throw up all over themselves. “I have what you want. I’m willing to leave it for you, for a price.”

 

Another silence. When Brock spoke, any faux cheer was gone from his voice. His charming mask was officially off. “What price would that be?”

 

“You and Hydra leaving me alone. Steve and Bucky too.”

 

Now Brock laughed. It was an ugly sound and Darcy refused to let it shake her. “How cute. You’re negotiating amnesty for your little harem too? You always were prone to taking in strays.” It took all of Darcy reserve to keep from snarling something nasty in reply. She couldn’t afford to piss him off right now.

 

“Do we have a deal? If all you want is the watch, then there’s no reason to keep coming after me, or Bucky and Steve. All we want is to live a peaceful, safe life. I swear to you will never hear from us again. We won’t cause you any problems either. If you agree, I’ll leave you the watch, buried in the dirt beneath the phone box that I’m calling you from.”

 

“Watch?” Brock barked, laughing harshly. “What are you talking about?”

 

Darcy felt her stomach drop. “The watch I stole from your nightstand. The thing you’ve been searching for.” She exchanged a worried glance with Steve. “I have it.”

 

“I couldn’t give a shit about some watch.” Brock snarled. He’d been drinking. Darcy could tell by the slur in his voice.

 

 “I’m sick of you lying to me, you little bitch! You know what I want. I’ve got colleagues searching every motel and gas station and highway in the fucking tri-state whatever. Hydra has people everywhere, Darcy. We see everything and _we will find you_ and your friends too. If you don’t come crawling back first, of course.” 

 

“I’m not lying to you,” Darcy snapped. She knew it was time to hang up the phone even before Steve started waving urgently to her. “And I will never, ever go back to you.” She was as confused as she was angry. This had to be about the watch. There was nothing else of his that she had.

 

“That’s what you said the first time I hit you,” Brock laughed, “and then two days later you sucked my dick and told me you loved me.” Shame rolled in Darcy's stomach, not just at how crude his words were, but because he was right. “Face it, Darcy, no one else would take you. I’m all you have.”

 

“You’re wrong,” Darcy whispered. She could see Bucky getting antsy behind the wheel and Steve’s hand gestures had reached peak urgency. “And go fuck yourself.” Then she hung up the phone.

 

Darcy vision was going white at the edges and she still felt like throwing up, but at least the worst of it was over. “Are you okay sweetheart?” Steve asked. He rubbed a soothing hand on her back. “What did he say?”

 

Darcy didn’t-- couldn’t stand to-- repeat Brock’s parting words. Instead, she told Steve: “he said the watch isn’t what he wants. He didn’t seem to know why I thought it was. He still thinks I’m hiding something from him, but Steve there is nothing else. I swear.”

 

“It’s okay, Darcy. You did wonderfully. Do you think we should leave the watch here anyway?” Steve asked, already ushering her toward the car. 

 

Darcy shook her head and stopped walking abruptly despite Steve’s urgings to keep going. “I don’t know if he was telling the truth of if that was just another lie.” She’d have time to figure it out later, once they got out of dodge. Darcy dropped the watch on the pavement. “What I do know is that I’m not giving that bastard or Hydra a goddamn thing.”

 

They Darcy popped the trunk and pulled out a crowbar that Bucky kept with his survival bag. She brought it swinging down into the watch face, utterly shattering the timepiece.  _Let that be a message to you, asshole._ Both Bucky and Steve were watching her with something akin to pride.

 

Bucky jerked his head for them to climb in the car, urgency once again taking over his expression. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

 

\---

 

They were bound for Kansas and driving the actual speed limit for once. At least, as soon as they’d gotten far enough away from the phone booth. Driving at normal speeds was less likely to draw attention, from both cops and Hydra. Or cops who were Hydra, which was apparently a thing.

 

Going North seemed like the best choice when Darcy considered the alternatives. For obvious reasons, they couldn’t go to New Mexico, or back to Nevada. If they stayed in Arizona where the pawnshop was they might as well deliver themselves to Brock and his goon squad. So that left south to Mexico (too predictable) or north to Kansas.

 

And to think, Darcy didn’t even have her red shoes.

 

They spoke often during the long car ride, trying to figure out what they’d missed. Darcy rehashed every moment of her escape and the weeks leading up to it. She searched her memory for any hint of what Brock could think she’d stolen from him. Obviously, it was something tangible, else how could she give it back?

 

But no matter what Darcy did, nothing rang a bell. They weren’t having much luck coming up with a better plan either. By the time they reached a motel a few miles into a Kansas border town, Darcy was ready to sleep for a week.  

 

They rented a room, as was becoming a habit for them and Darcy threw herself into the shower with vengeance. She needed to wash the weight of the day and the memory of Brock’s words off of her. She also needed to call her friends.

 

 It had been a while since Thor, Nat or Jane had heard from her and they’d be worried sick. Not to mention everything that had happened since the last time Darcy called. She resolved to get another burner phone as soon as possible. 

 

Darcy was coming out of the shower when a horrible thought struck her. She let out a gasp that sent both of her lovers running to her side. Bucky got between her and the door, scanning the steam-filled bathroom for a threat while Steve searched Darcy for injury. “What’s wrong?” Steve demanded.

 

“Nothing, everything’s okay.” The men relaxed, but only fractionally. “I just realized that your sketchbook is still at the house. All your beautiful drawings…” Darcy was just about on the brink of tears.

 

Steve looked at her like she was all at once the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and an utter fool. “Darcy, my sketchbook is the last thing you need to worry about. They’re just drawings.”

 

“But all that hard work--” Darcy insisted, emotional for a reason she could not name.

 

“Darcy,” Steve interrupted. “I can always draw more.” He looked between her and Bucky. “I have all the inspiration I need right here.” Not even a line that romantic was enough to console Darcy.

 

“But it’s not just your sketchbook.” Darcy clutched her towel wrap to herself, struggling to breathe through a rising panic attack. “It’s your photo albums, and the fancy plates in the cabinet above the dishwasher, and those throw pillows that you got from the flea market last October.”

 

Steve had given up on trying to coax Darcy out of the bathroom and simply scooped her up in his arms. He sat down on the bed, still grasping her tightly while Bucky stroked her hair and tried to calm her down. “Just breathe, doll. We’re right here. We’ve got you. Breathe in with me, that’s it.”

 

When Darcy could finally breathe again, she felt exhausted. She hated panic attacks and hadn’t had one since she’d been driving on the road by herself two weeks ago, when the cost of gas and her dwindling cash supply had sent her into a spiral.

 

Darcy tried to wiggle out of Steve’s grasp, but he only held her tighter, leaning back so they were both lying on the bed. Bucky settled on her other side, trapping her between them. Instead of aggravating her anxiety, the proximity soothed her.

 

Embarrassed, Darcy couldn’t look at either of them. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

 

“It’s okay, Darcy,” Steve promised. “We’re both veterans, remember? We know better than anyone that panic attacks can happen. There’s nothing wrong with needing support.” As lovely as that was, it didn’t make Darcy feel any better.

 

“I’m sure it only made you feel worse about losing your home. I know it’s not my right to be upset on your behalf, but I can’t help it. I know we talked about the whole “it’s not my fault” thing, but it’s still awful what happened.”

 

Bucky only smoothed a hand over her hair. “Darcy, Steve is my home and I’m his. That’s all we need. And if you’d let us, we’d like to be your home too.” He put a finger under Darcy's chin and tilted it up, forcing her to look at him. Bucky cradled her face while Steve brushed away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her lashes. 

 

Instead of answering, Darcy leaned in and kissed him. He tasted like toothpaste and the promise of happiness. A moment later, Steve pulled Darcy into his lap, her back pressed against his stomach. He slipped his hands beneath her towel and found the curve of her breasts. 

 

“These walls are thin, doll,” Bucky warned, already pushing the fabric up her legs. He did something with his fingers that had Darcy shaking. “Do you think you can be quiet for us?”

 

Darcy buried her face into Steve’s shirt and whimpered. The two of them were going to drive her crazy. When Bucky’s palm came down on her clit in a sharp slap, Darcy almost shrieked. The sting of pain only heightened her arousal. 

 

It should have freaked Darcy out, reminded her of Brock. But this was nothing like the abuse she’d suffered. She’d never felt safer and more cared for than when she was with Steve and Bucky. 

 

“Bucky asked you a question, Darce,” Steve reminded her. His teasing words were a sharp contrast to his reverent, almost worshipful hands on her cleavage. Steve was busy laying hickeys over the ones they’d already formed last night. “Do you remember your safe word?”

 

“I remember it, and yes I can be quiet,” Darcy promised, jerking as Bucky licked at her slit. Her thighs flexed closed, but Steve flipped his ankles over own and held her legs open. 

 

“It’s okay if you can’t,” Steve rumbled, as Bucky teased her. He was kissing and biting at every part of Darcy except the part that needed his attention. “We’d enjoy gagging you.”

 

“Please Bucky,” Dacy whispered. She thought she might go insane if she didn’t get his mouth on her sometime soon. 

 

Bucky’s amused eyes looked up from between her thighs. “Please what, angel?”

 

“Please put your mouth on me,” Darcy snapped. Bucky hummed, seeming to think about it. 

 

“Not a very nice way to ask, is it Stevie?” 

 

Steve chuckled. “Not very nice at all.” Darcy whined in frustration as Bucky sat up and Steve slid out from behind her. 

 

“I said please!” She insisted.

 

“And I didn’t like your tone,” Bucky replied. “I think you should watch us have fun until you’re ready to be a good girl.” Darcy didn’t think she could get any wetter until the words ‘good girl’ left Bucky’s mouth.

 

She sat, dumbstruck as Bucky pulled Steve toward him and kissed him slowly. Bucky’s hands slid beneath Steve’s shirt while Steve made short work of Bucky’s belt. “I don’t have any lube,” Steve rumbled, “so you better get it nice and wet.”

 

Darcy, frozen in the spot they had left her, watched with rapt attention as Bucky put his blowjob skills to the test. Suddenly, Bucky stopped and looked over at her. “Let me borrow some of that cream, kitten. I know you’re soaked for us.”

 

Darcy, flushed with how incredibly lewd this was, hooked her fingers inside of her. They came out dripping with arousal. Bucky took his hand in her own, wrapping it around Steve’s cock and guiding her hands in a jerking motion. 

 

“I think that’s wet enough,” Bucky mused, popping Darcy’s finger in his mouth and licking the rest off. “Why don’t you touch yourself for us?” And Darcy, more embarrassed than she’d ever been, but also more aroused, spread her legs and slipped her fingers inside of herself. 

 

As Steve slid inside Bucky’s waiting hole and the two of them began to rock together, both watched Darcy intently as she masturbated for them. She couldn’t help the little whimpers that came out of her every time Bucky moaned out Steve’s name. Watching them together was pure magic. 

 

None of them lasted very long. Darcy was crying out her orgasm only moments before Steve was. Under Steve’s guidance, Darcy finished Bucky off with her mouth. Afterward, the three of them lay tangled in a pile of limbs.

 

“So much for being quiet.” Steve joked. “You didn’t feel excluded did you? We didn’t mean to make you--” Darcy put up a hand to stop him. 

 

“It was hot as hell. I still wish Bucky would have actually ate me out, though.” Darcy yelped as she was suddenly yanked across the bed and into Bucky’s lap.

 

“The night is still young, Doll.” 

 

\---

 

Darcy swore that waking up the morning after next to two sex gods would never get old. Was this how the Maenads felt after a night of Dionysian debauchery? Darcy certainly felt debauched. 

 

Unfortunately, the bliss didn’t last long. Worry quickly came to replace it. They spent another morning debating what their game plan was going forward, talking in circles and over one another until they were right back where they started. The truth was that they still had no idea what to do. 

 

So they went for lunch at a cheap diner and Bucky and Steve sat with their fronts toward the door. Darcy drank a milkshake and pretended she wasn’t counting the exits. Was this their new normal?  How long could this little game of cat and mouse last?

 

It was when they were heading back to the hotel that Darcy realized the answer was “not very long at all”. 

 

The door to their motel room was slightly ajar. All of them froze in the hallway, exchanging a silent conversation that Darcy could finally understand. This was trouble. Steve and Bucky went first, guns drawn and at the ready. Darcy was meant to be watching their backs, but she saw right through to what this actually was: an excuse to protect her. She was almost more annoyed than she was scared. Almost.

 

No one breathed as Steve pushed the door slowly open with his foot. The three of them advanced into the motel room, following the single beam of hazy yellow light casting shadows across the stained carpet. Someone had turned the desk lamp on. 

 

That someone was sitting on the bed, a handgun resting beside her like an afterthought. “It’s good to see you, малышка.” The figure nodded to Steve and Bucky. “Think you could call off your guards?”

 

Then Natasha smiled. 


	7. Tartarus

Малышка. Malyshka. Baby girl.

It felt like ages had passed since Darcy last heard that nickname. The word broke something inside of her that had remained resolute, though shaky, for these past months.

Jane was Darcy’s best friend and Thor the closest thing she had to a sibling, but neither of them understood Darcy the way that Natasha did. Despite their vastly different pasts, Natasha had always seemed to be something of a kindred spirit to Darcy.

They were both women who’d been thrown into the fire and emerged having forged themselves.

“Natasha,” Darcy breathed. “What are you doing here?” Steve and Bucky still had pistols trained on the redhead. Darcy waved a hand at them. “It’s okay, she’s a friend.”

Steve’s hand wavered, but neither of them put their guns down. Bucky grimaced. “No offense doll, but your ex-boyfriend did try to kill you. Now a friend of yours somehow tracks you down and shows up in our motel room?” Bucky nodded to the handgun lying next to Natasha. “With a gun?”

“Nat is so not a Hydra goon,” Darcy retorted. Even as she said it, some part of her was starting to assemble a very troubling picture. There had to be another explanation for why her Natasha was here.

The same Natasha who had held Darcy’s hair back while she puked after an over-enthusiastic girls night out. The Natasha who snuck cookie batter out of the bowl while Darcy baked and perched on the counter like an oversized pigeon, laughing about whatever Science! Shenanigans Darcy had gotten into at the lab that day.

Natasha whose arms felt like coming home as Darcy pushed past Steve and Bucky and fell into her embrace.

Darcy refused to even acknowledge the idea that Natasha might be a Hydra operative. Not just because she’d known Natasha for years and counted her among her closest friends, but because a betrayal from the redhead would be Darcy’s unraveling.

Darcy heard sharp inhales behind her and a warning noise from Steve, but she ignored them in favor of burying her face in Natasha’s shoulder. Her boys were wonderful, but Darcy had missed her friends. If only Jane and Thor were here too.

“I assure you Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes,” Natasha spoke into Darcy’s hair, “I am not a Hydra operative. I work for Euroforce.”

“Euroforce?” Darcy asked, pulling back from Natasha’s embrace.

“It’s an inter-European task force that runs counter-terrorism ops,” Steve said. His hand wavered further. “They were formed in part to stop the spread of Hydra after its infiltration of SHIELD.”

“My badge is on the desk there,” Natasha inclined her head. “I’m sure we have mutual friends who can vouch for the fact that I’m not compromised. Make whatever phone calls you need to.”

Darcy was still stubbornly sitting by Natasha’s side, refusing to move despite Bucky’s silent urging to get out of his line of fire. Like hell she would.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a silent conversation before Steve lowered his gun, pulled out his phone and stepped out of the room.

“So you’re a secret agent?” Darcy whispered. It seemed obvious, now that she thought about it. Natasha’s shadowy past, physical acumen, and general badassery suddenly made sense. Still, the realization that yet another person in her life was not exactly who she thought they were was jarring to Darcy.

“Something like a secret agent, yes.” Natasha chuckled. “Although it's not as glamorous as you might expect.” As if anything Natasha did could be unglamorous.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door. Three short knocks, pause, two more rapid knocks. It was a code the three of them used whenever they entered the hotel room to signal who was coming through the door. They changed it every morning.

“черная вдова,” Steve accused as he shut the door behind him. “You’re the Black Widow.” Bucky’s grip on his gun jerked, causing everyone in the room to flinch but Natasha. Well, and Steve. Bucky was doing fine too. Really, it was just Darcy who flinched.

“You’re the Black Widow?” Bucky asked. “You used to work for the NKVD, didn’t you? We almost crossed passed in Kharkiv in ‘09.”

Natasha’s smile was little more than a slash of crimson in the shadows. “It’s lucky for you that we didn’t.”

“Slow down, Nikita,” Darcy interrupted. “NKVD?”

“The Russian secret police,” Natasha explained. “The modern-day version of the KGB.” Seeing Darcy’s expression, Natasha quickly added “I no longer work for them. I am not proud of everything I’ve done in my past, but I have been working to redeem myself since the day I joined Euroforce.”

Darcy’s boys finally seemed convinced that Natasha was not a threat (or at least not to them), and tucked their guns away. Natasha even handed her gun to Steve as a sign of good faith. Though, Darcy had little doubt she was just as deadly without it.

“I’m sure you have many questions and I owe you answers that are long overdue.” Natasha sighed. “Darcy, do you know why Brock Rumlow is pursuing you?”

“He’s convinced I have something that belongs to him. I told him I don’t, but he thinks I’m lying to him”

Steve settled into the motel’s rooms only armchair, close enough to the bed for Darcy to reach out to him if need be. Bucky leaned rigidly against the desk and watched both his lovers with tender, worried eyes.

“You do indeed have what Rumlow wants, Darcy. You have it because I gave it to you.”

“Gave what to me?” Darcy asked. “When?” She couldn’t think of anything that Natasha had given her that she’d brought with her except…

Darcy strode and strode to the duffel bag she’d been lugging with her since she’d left her and ‘Alex’s’ apartment over a month ago. She’d even managed to grab it during Hydra’s attack on the house, with bullets raining down on her.

Now, Darcy pulled out her lucky taser. The one Natasha had gifted her only a few weeks before Brock’s mental breakdown and Darcy’s fleeing New Mexico.

“You still have it,” Natasha exhaled in relief. “I was worried you might have lost it or left it behind.”

“A taser?” Darcy asked in disbelief. “Rumlow is trying to kill me over a taser. Doesn’t that walking dildo know that he can just go and buy his own at Walmart?” At the words “waking dildo”, Bucky let out an involuntary guaff.

“It’s not about the taser, Малышка. It’s about what’s inside of it.” Natasha extended a delicate, deadly hand toward her and Darcy placed the taser into it.

They all watched with bated breath as Natasha found a near-invisible seam in the plastic and pulled open a hidden panel no bigger than Darcy’s thumb. From it, Natasha wiggled loose a sleek piece of black metal.

To Darcy’s surprise, she still couldn’t see the hidden compartment when Natasha closed it again, even though she knew it was there. “This,” Natasha held up the flash drive, “is what Rumlow is after. This flash drive is everything we need to smoke Hydra out of SHIELD. We just need to light the match.”

“Hold on,” Steve interrupted. “Hydra has outsmarted and outgunned Euroforce, the CIA, the Pan-African Bureau, and basically every other anti-terrorist organization in the world. The contents of one flash drive could never be enough to destroy them. It’s not possible.”

Natasha raised one delicate eyebrow. “Not even if those contents were hundreds of internal documents showing SHIELD’s corruption? Not even paper trails on bribes paid to SHIELD personnel out of the pockets of white-nationalist warlords?”

“Impressive, but Hydra--” Bucky began. Natasha held up a hand.

“Would make a skilled and concerted effort to ‘debunk’ this evidence and destroy any loose ends with loose lips? I’m sure they will. Which is why that’s not the only thing on the drive. There’s also a video confession from Alexander Pierce--  _the real one_ \-- confessing to Hydra’s control of SHIELD and his own role in helping them infiltrate it.”

Steve inhaled sharply and Darcy frowned.

“I thought you said that most people don’t know what Alexander Pierce looks like,” Darcy asked. “That’s how Rumlow was able to assume his position so easily. How can we prove that this video is really Pierce?”

It was Bucky who answered. “The general public and even many members of SHIELD might not know what Pierce looks likes, but the heads of those organizations I mentioned earlier, certainly do.”

He squinted at Natasha, a grim kind of hope rising in the corners of his eyes. “Is this evidence really as damning as you say it is?”

“Even more so,” Natasha confirmed. “Pierce recorded this confession only hours before his capture and subsequent murder. It’s a miracle that he was able to contact one of Euroforce’s agents and deliver it before his death.”

“We met Pierce when we were first promoted to a strike team,” Steve offered. “He seemed like a good man. I’m still surprised that he turned double agent for Hydra. Why double cross Hydra now? He had to know that recording that video would cost him his life.”

“Pierce was radicalized almost a decade ago,” Natasha explained. “Shortly after the two of you retired, I believe. Being the head of an organization like SHIELD makes you a lot of enemies. A few years ago, one of those enemies abducted Pierce’s daughter. They wanted a prisoner released in exchange for her safe return.”

“I remember hearing about that,” Steve said. “Poor girl.”

“What happened?” Darcy asked though she could guess that the story didn’t end well.

Natasha sighed. “Pierce turned to SHIELD for help. He begged them to release the cartel boss and save his daughter’s life, but they refused. It’s ransom 101. Never give in to the demands of the kidnapper. Once you give up your leverage, there’s nothing keeping that hostage alive.”

Natasha drew an uneasy breath, then continued. “SHIELD sent an extraction team after her, but by then it was too late. All they found was her body. She was only thirteen.” A horrified noise escaped Darcy’s throat. “After that, Pierce turned double agent, assumedly to get revenge on the organization that he viewed as letting his daughter die.”

Darcy would never excuse the choice Pierce had made, nor the evil he had opened the door for, but at the very least she could see how grief and anger like that might drive someone out of their mind.

“So why did he suddenly decide to take down Hydra?” Darcy asked, quietly.

Natasha had clearly been waiting for this question. “Pierce found out that Hydra was behind the group that killed his daughter.”

“It was all just a ploy to turn him,” Steve realized.

“Sounds just like Hydra,” Bucky replied bitterly.

Natasha nodded. “He contacted Euroforce almost immediately after we leaked the truth to him and agreed to work as a double agent on our behalf. He was slowly gathering the evidence necessary to take Hydra down. Unfortunately, his cover was blown and he had to go on the run. He recorded the video and then left this flash drive at the extraction point.”

“Why didn’t he stay and wait for extraction?” Darcy asked.

“I don’t think he wanted to make it out of there,” Natasha replied. “I think this flash drive was his form of apology for everything he’s done and once it was delivered…” Natasha let her sentence trail off. “Letting Hydra capture him was one last act of penance, I suppose.”

“Those who didn’t know what Pierce looked like were none the wiser, and those who did were either on Rumlow’s side or they became collateral damage,” Bucky guessed. Natasha only nodded.

Steve interjected. “But if this flash drive is from before Darcy started dating Rumlow. Why has it sat idle for so long?”

“Because Euroforce didn’t even know it existed until a few months ago. Up until then, we believed the files he was collecting were destroyed.” A few months ago, Darcy realized, was right around the time Natasha first showed up in New Mexico.

Natasha forged on. “I was the agent sent to recover the flash drive. Pierce hid it in New Mexico before his murder. Unfortunately, Euroforce weren’t the only ones who received intel about its existence. Rumlow had the entire state locked down and monitored.

Once I had the drive, it was too dangerous to bring back to Euroforce. Darcy, you know how skillful Rumlow is with computers. If we tried to upload it digitally, Hydra would track us-- me-- down. My cover would be blown and the files at risk.”

“So you just stayed in New Mexico?”

“I received orders to stay undercover and hide the drive until it was safe for me to be extracted,” Natasha explained. “We had intelligence that Rumlow had set up base in Puente Antiguo while he searched for the drive, so that’s where I went.”

“Why would you go straight toward the man who is trying to kill you?” Darcy gasped. “Nat, you’ve eaten dinner with him for fuck’s sake. The three of us chatted about the economy over glasses of merlot.”

“It’s pretty ingenious intelligence strategy, actually,” Steve said. “Hide in the one place the enemy would never expect you to be. Right underneath their nose.”

Darcy stood up from the bed and began to pace. “Hold on. If this flash drive is that important, why the hell did you give it to me?”

“Despite my best efforts, Hydra was narrowing in on my location. Euroforce suspects we have a mole, so no one was sure whether or not I’d been compromised. This drive is too important to risk, so I gave it to someone I trusted.” Natasha nodded to Darcy.

“Why not Jane or Thor? Why not Clint?”

“Jane’s advancements in her research puts her on too many watch lists. Thor’s father is a foreign diplomat, and Clint and I… we’re in the same business, if you catch my meaning.”

Clint was an old friend of Natasha’s and a budding friend of Darcy’s. He was (almost) as sneaky as Natasha was and annoyingly good at Super Smash Bros. Nat had always told her that she’d met Clint when he poached her from a rival business.  _That ‘rival business’ was probably an offshoot of the KGB_ , Darcy thought dryly.

“They’re all too obvious to entrust the thumb drive to. But no one would suspect me.” Darcy interpreted. “I’m average. Unremarkable.”

“That’s not true,” Steve said and the same time Bucky blurted “like hell.” Darcy was charmed in spite of herself.

Natasha patted Darcy’s hand. “There is nothing average about you, malyshka. From an outsider’s perspective you are an everyday woman, yes, but you should not underestimate your mind or your heart. I trusted the thumb drive to you not because you are unremarkable, but because you are exactly the opposite.”

As touched as she was by Natasha’s words, there was still the issue of Natasha giving Darcy such a dangerous piece of information in the first place. “Nat, that thumb drive almost got me killed. Steve and Bucky’s house is in shambles because of that thing.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. To all three of you.” Every line of Natasha’s face was heavy with shame. “No one should have known that I even had the drive, let alone guessed that I gave it to you, Darcy. It was only supposed to be temporary.”

“I don’t care what it was supposed to be,” Darcy scowled. “You don’t sell your friends down the river like that. Why did Alex come after me, anyway? I thought the drive was supposed to be safe with me.”

“I suspect the mole learned that I was the one holding the drive. Obviously, they only know my codesign and not my real identity, but they must have told Brock that I was hiding out in Puente Antiguo.”

“He thought I was you. The Black Widow,” Darcy realized. No wonder Natasha looked so guilty. Well, that and all the other lies she’d been feeding Darcy since they met.

Something horrible occurred to Darcy. “If you were sent to monitor Rumlow, then the only reason you befriended me was to get at him. Our whole friendship is just a cover story for you.”

Natasha shook her head ardently. “While it’s true that I may have initially befriended you to spy on Rumlow, nothing about our friendship since has been manufactured. Darcy, I knew within minutes of meeting you that I couldn’t leave New Mexico without getting you away from Brock first. I didn’t know how, or when, but I swear to you that’s true.”

“You still put her at risk!” Bucky snapped. Steve put a calming hand on his arm. It seemed that despite their best efforts to let Darcy handle her own business, her boys were still riled up at the idea of someone hurting Darcy.

To Darcy’s shock, there were tears in Natasha’s eyes. She had never seen the redhead cry before. “I didn’t know he was hurting you until after you left. If I did, I would have killed him myself.”

“You still never told me that my boyfriend was a neo-nazi! Why did you even stay if you weren’t going to be honest with me?”

Natasha sighed. “I couldn’t risk just disappearing.”

Darcy frowned. “Why not?”

  
“Because it would be too suspicious. One of Rumlow’s girlfriend’s friends disappearing right after he starts searching for the thumb drive in the same state said girlfriend lives in? He would have suspected you, Darcy. I couldn’t leave knowing it would put you in danger.”

“I’m guessing your superiors weren’t pleased with that decision?” Bucky asked. Natasha laughed without humor and shook her head.

Darcy peered at her. “That doesn’t sound like a choice an agent would make.”

Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t thinking like an agent. I was thinking like your friend. Rumlow would never suspect you had it and even if my cover got blown, the fact that you have this drive makes you indispensable. Euroforce would have to protect you, even if I couldn’t.”

“Whether you were trying to protect me or not, you used me as a pawn, Natasha!” Darcy snapped. “Do you know what that’s like?”

A deep sadness settled itself in Natasha’s face, and despite her anger, Darcy regretted her words. “More than you know.”

Steve, noticing Darcy’s distress, squeezed her shoulder. Natasha forged on.

“Darcy, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I can protect you now if you’ll let me.” Darcy folded her arms over her chest and Natasha chewed her lip, a pained expression on her face. “Let me do the right thing for once.”

Darcy frowned down at her hands where they twisted anxiously in her lap. “What exactly is your plan here, Natasha?”

“Euroforce has a safe house in Salina. We can leave right now and be there by morning. You were doing a truly impressive job of evading Hydra. So much so that even Euroforce lost track of you. Until you stumbled into Bucky and Steve, of course. That set off alarm bells for Euroforce as well as Hydra.

I came as soon as I could. Now that you’re out of Brock’s grasp, we can move you somewhere safe while we get the drive into the proper hands. In a few weeks, the smoke will have died down and the three of you should be able to return to a somewhat normal life.”

Darcy put her head in her hands. She wanted to go home more than anything. She missed Jane and Thor. She wanted to be able to call her mom. A chance to start fresh, to start a normal life with Steve and Bucky seemed too good to be true.

Yet, she was still overwhelmed with feelings of betrayal. The last two years of Darcy’s life had been fraught with lies and secrets. Her ex-boyfriend was a psychopath, one of her best friends had been using Darcy to spy on him, and now the secret organization said friend worked for was trying to take Darcy into a protection program.

Darcy had no idea what to do or who to trust. “I just… I need to think about his Nat.”

“Darcy, it’s not safe for you to st--”

“I need to think about it,” Darcy said again, this time putting backbone into her voice. Natasha stopped short, then nodded.

“I understand. Just don’t wait too long. If I was able to find you, Hydra won’t be far behind. I’m sorry, Darcy.” With that, Natasha nodded to Steve and Bucky and strode out of the room, taking her pistol and her secrets with her.

“I’m going to call Jane. There are some things I need to talk to her about, and it will be nice to speak to a friend who I know isn’t lying to me.”

“And then?” Steve asked gently.

“Then I would like you both to fuck my brains out.”

\---  
Darcy woke to the cheap alarm clock beside the bed blaring in her ears and a near suffocating amount of heat surrounding her. Since they’d become a couple, Steve had taken to sleeping in the middle of their trio because Darcy liked to roll around at night and Bucky didn’t like to feel caged in.

But after the night she’d had, Darcy was happy to let them cuddle her between them. It wasn’t as pleasant to wake up that way, however. As nice as sleeping between two gorgeous men sounded, the reality was that it got hot and cramped real fast.

Darcy wondered how Steve did this every night as she wiggled out from beneath Bucky’s hold (protective, even in his sleep) and tried not to kick Steve in the face scrambling out from underneath the covers. She nearly toppled off the bed in the process.

Luckily, Darcy managed to avoid waking either of the boys up. Either that or they were faking sleep to give Darcy some space. She wouldn’t put it past them. Darcy’s body ached pleasantly from last night’s more enjoyable activities and her thighs were suspiciously sticky, so she headed right for the shower.

The onslaught of hot water revived some of Darcy’s usual cheer, and if she sobbed for a while into the steam then no one was the wiser. After she’d been in the shower for an indecently long time, there was a knock on the glass door. “Can I join you?” Bucky asked.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” Darcy joked. A moment later, a naked Bucky stepped into the shower.

“Steve went to get breakfast,” Bucky informed Darcy, reaching around her for the tiny bottle of hotel shampoo. “How are you doing?”

“I’m still processing,” Darcy admitted. “I’m not sure how to feel.” She gestured for Bucky to hand her the shampoo bottle and began lathering up his hair. They were standing naked in a shower together and strangely washing his hair was the most intimate thing about it.

“I’m still upset with Natasha, but I trust her when she says that she’s only trying to help. If she says our friendship is real, I believe her.” Saying the words out loud helped to solidify that belief for Darcy. It might take time, but she and Natasha would be okay.

Bucky smiled at her over his shoulder, as Darcy moved on from shampooing his hair to massaging his shoulders. “If it helps, I believe she’s telling the truth too. And I’m pretty good at reading spies.” Water coated his prosthetic like a river carving through stone. Darcy had learned shortly after they met that it was waterproof.

“I’m glad that you and Steve are here,” Darcy said, resting her head on his shoulder. His skin was hot and slick from the steam. “I’m just… I’m scared, James.”

Bucky turned and pulled her into an embrace. “You, me, and Steve... we’re going to protect each other. You don’t have to worry when you’re with us, doll.”

“It’s not Hydra I’m scared of. Well, that’s not true. I’m scared shitless of Hydra, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Bucky searched her gaze and Darcy thought she could get lost forever in his eyes.

“I’m scared of how much I want the two of you. I know what they say about starting romances in high-pressure situations, and I know this is moving fast, but I… I want all of you and Steve. I want to belong to you and I want the two of you to belong to me.”

“Oh darlin’,” Bucky sighed and then he was kissing her.

Darcy lost herself in his lips as he backed her up against the shower wall. The cold tile sent shivers down her back and her nipples hardened against the toned lines of his chest. Bucky must have noticed because a moment later he leaned down and captured one of the buds in his mouth.  
  
Darcy sighed blissfully and the noise was carried away with the steam. They kissed again, long and languidly. Darcy found Bucky’s cock and stroked it slowly. “Hold on,” Bucky whispered and then he wrapped his arms around her and lifted, pinning Darcy between the wall and his hips.

Darcy rutted against him, desperate to feel him inside her. For once, Bucky wasn’t in a teasing mood. A strange sort of urgency filled them both. In one long thrust, he was seated inside her.

  
The angle was awkward, almost uncomfortable, but the feeling of Bucky inside her erased everything else. He whispered into her ear with every thrust, calling her their filthy, beautiful, darling girl.

Darcy spilled into her orgasm without warning and shortly after Bucky followed. He kept her aloft in his arms as they both caught their breath. Incredibly, Bucky seemed as if he could hold her here all day. But that was a thought for another time.

A rustle in the bedroom caught both of their attentions, as did the smell of food. “Steve’s back,” Darcy murmured.

Bucky shifted her so that he was cradling her bridal style and turned off the shower with a flick of his elbow. “What are you doing?” Darcy asked, as he carried her out of the shower and then out of the bathroom altogether.

The two of them dripped all over the carpet while Steve turned to survey them with first surprised then hungry eyes. “Steve brought breakfast,” Bucky explained. “It’s only fair that I share my own sweet treat.”

With that, he nodded for Steve to climb onto the bed. Steve did so eagerly, yanking his jeans down to his knees. Bucky set Darcy down on the carpet beside Steve and at Steve’s wicked look, she climbed up to straddle his face.

As Steve’s tongue plunged inside her, Darcy knew that he was tasting both her and Bucky’s release. It was strangely erotic. Meanwhile, Bucky’s talented hands made quick work of Steve’s hard-on.

It didn’t take very long for either Darcy or Steve to find release, and Bucky beamed as they came apart before him.

  
Logically, Darcy knew nothing was perfect, but  _this? This feels pretty damn close._

“We need to talk,” Darcy said later, around a mouthful of Egg McMuffin. “I trust Natasha and if Euroforce is willing to put us up in a safe house, I say we go for it. We don’t have many other options. But that’s just my take. This is a group decision, so if either of you wants to do something else then that’s what we’ll do.”

There was a moment of pause while Steve finished devouring his bag full of hashbrowns. “I have to admit that I’m still a little hesitant about trusting a former Russian spy with our lives, but I trust you and if you trust her then that’s good enough for me.”

They both turned to look at Bucky whose food had vanished as if into a black hole within moments of him starting to eat it. “I still don’t like the way she used you, Darce, but I don’t see how we have much choice. We need to move forward with this carefully, but if the two of you are in then of course I’m behind you.”

Bucky grinned that mischievous grin of his, though worry glimmered in his dark eyes. “Did you think you could leave me behind punk, doll?”

“Why does she get an endearment and I get ‘punk?” Steve teased.

“Because you are a punk,” Bucky fired back.

“Jerk.”

While they bickered in the way that only long-time lovers could, Darcy smiled to herself and tried to hold onto this moment with everything she had. Moments of lightness, caught between gunfire and lies, had been few and far between since they’d fled the house.

But the few she had were precious to Darcy and she was counting on them to carry her through whatever might lie ahead.

It was that thought that steadied Darcy and she picked up the phone and dialed. “Natasha? How soon do we leave?”

\---  
The plan was a simple one. Natasha would pick them up from the motel at 11 am. They would drive straight to Salina, taking as few stops if possible. According to Darcy’s GPS, it was a ten-hour drive. Natasha promised they’d be there in six.

Despite her boys’ offer of shotgun, Darcy insisted on sitting in the back seat. She’d tentatively forgiven Natasha, but she wasn’t quite ready to sit next to her for six hours. Which left Steve in the backseat with Darcy and Bucky upfront with Natasha.

Natasha played first jazz then NPR on the radio and the three of them spoke little. Darcy was lost in her own thoughts and occupied her time by avoiding eye contact with Natasha. Even Steve seemed on edge. Clearly no one had forgotten the threat they were fleeing.

And the threat hadn’t forgotten them either.

“Natasha,” Bucky murmured suddenly, an edge of steel in his voice. “At your six.” Natasha’s eyes flicked upwards toward the rearview mirror. Her lips tightened.

They were driving on nearly empty back roads populated by warehouses and vacant lots, passing through this town on their way to another. They weren’t quite in the desert yet, but they were close.

“That car’s been following us for the last three turns.” The car Natasha was talking about was a grey SUV with darkly tinted windows only a few yards behind them.

“Is it Hydra?” Darcy whispered. Steve shot her a grim look, but said nothing. “Take a couple of right turns, Nat. If the car’s still behind us they’ll be going in a circle and then you know that they’re following us.”

Natasha took four right turns. The car followed. They were in the depths of the industrial district now, and given that it was a Sunday there wasn’t another soul in sight. Just them and the other car.

“They’re speeding up,” Steve warned. Sure enough, the car was growing steadily closer to the rear of Natasha’s car. When Natasha sped up, the car only went faster. They were going at least twenty over the speed limit now.

The SUV behind them revved its engine and swerved erratically toward the side of their car. “Nat,” Darcy cried out in warning.

“Shit,” Natasha swore, swerving to avoid the side sweep. Darcy yelped as the tires spun out on the pavement and Natasha struggled to keep control over the car.

“Watch out,” Bucky called, as the SUV swung toward them again. Metal screamed against metal as the car slid against them.

“What do you think I’m try to--” Natasha began, but the roar in Darcy’s ears swallowed the rest as the car swerved beneath her and spun out toward a ditch full of roughage.

For a moment, Darcy was weightless. Then came the impact.

Everything was white and bright for several terrifying moments. When Darcy came to, it was in a world of pain. She wheezed, struggling to regain the breath the crash had stolen from her lungs. Her chest burned painfully and the skin beneath her seatbelt was a livid red.

“Bucky? Nat?” Darcy wheezed. There was no movement in the front seat, and Steve was slumped next to her. “Steve!’ Darcy grasped weakly at his shirt. His forehead was bleeding and Darcy prayed it was nothing serious.

The sound of a car door slamming behind her sent Darcy flying out of shock and straight into panic.  _The SUV. What the hell am I gonna do?_   Shaking hands fumbled with her seatbelt as Darcy reached for the gun at Bucky’s hip.

She could still move her limbs, so that had to be a good sign. That didn’t mean that she might not have broken ribs or internal bleeding, however. She needed to go to a hospital. She needed to wake up Natasha and the boys.

There was no time for any of it, though. Darcy only had one option and that was to fight. Fight to protect the ones she loved.

Darcy’s fingers touched steel. She’d found Bucky’s gun. Her grip started to close around the weapon when the car door flew open behind her. Darcy shrieked as a hand fisted in her hair and dragged her screaming from the vehicle.

The gun remained inside.

As Darcy tumbled onto the pavement, into the broken glass and the smoke pouring out of the hood she caught a glimpse of Natasha slumped over the wheel. She couldn’t see Bucky. Suddenly, a man’s leg blocked her view.

“Did you miss me, darling?” Rumlow asked, his foot swung down toward her.

Then there was only darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here. Thank you all for your patience! Just to let y'all know, next chapter will be the last chapter. I'm not sure yet when it's coming out, but I have already written part of it so hopefully not as long as this chapter took.


	8. Elysium

The first thing that Darcy realized when she emerged from oblivion was that one of her ribs was broken. More than one, possibly. 

Her whole body ached and every inhale was painful. As she instinctively tried to stand from the chair she was sitting in, Darcy found that her wrists and ankles were bound to it. Darcy yanked at the ropes, terrified, as she darted her gaze across her surroundings. 

She was alone in a cavernous, mostly empty room. It appeared to be industrial in nature. Maybe an old warehouse? Whether it was part of a larger facility, Darcy could not say.

 A skylight overhead cast a dusty beam of orange light on her face. Judging by the setting sun outside and the fact that Darcy’s bruises were still an angry red and not purple, she couldn’t have been out for any longer than a few hours. 

Darcy’s panic only increased when the door on the far side of one wall began to creak open. She pulled even more frantically at the ropes binding her as Brock Rumlow stepped inside the room and shut the door behind him. 

 _‘Where’s Natasha? Where’s Bucky and Steve?_ ’ Darcy thought frantically. “Help!” She screamed. “Help me, please!”

“There’s no use in screaming, Darcy. There’s no one around to hear you.” Brock lectured, crushing any hope Darcy had that she might be in the middle of a city somewhere. He was pushing a cart with him and as Darcy got a better view of the surgical instruments on it, she felt bile rise in her throat. 

Brock caught her glance. “Relax, it’s not time for that. Yet.”

Darcy was on the edge of losing it, but she wouldn’t give Rumlow the satisfaction of seeing her fear again. She set her jaw and demanded, “where are my friends?” Darcy wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. 

“The Black Widow and your little harem?” Brock’s smile was two degrees sharper than cruel. “They’re dead.”

The floor dropped out from beneath Darcy.

She knew Rumlow was still talking because his lips were still moving. But she could hear nothing but a deafening roar in her ears. The room went dark and narrow around her. Darcy could feel a panic attack coming on and frantically pushed it away. 

  
Rumlow had to be lying. _He had to be lying._ There was no other alternative. And even if it was true… Darcy refused to break down in front of this monster. She needed to focus on getting out of this alive. That’s what all three of them would want.

“Why am I here,” Darcy snarled, willing her damp eyes to keep from spilling over.

Brock was studying her intently, a vicious smile on his face. “Can’t we just catch up? For old time’s sake?”

Darcy spat at his feet. “Fuck you.”

Brock’s eyebrows drew down for a long, dangerous moment, but then he sighed. “Straight to business, then.” Brock reached for the cart, and Darcy flinched-- then froze-- as Brock held her taser up in the air. “How long did you think you could hide this, hm?”

He was already reaching for the secret compartment where the thumb drive was hidden. Darcy couldn’t breathe. _This can’t be happening,_ she thought numbly.

  Darcy struggled frantically against the ropes binding her as Brock’s finger skimmed across the near-invisible seam in the plastic. His eyes narrowed. As Darcy watched, he pried the compartment open and yanked the flash drive free.

 _Everything_ was on that drive. 

Alexander Pierce (the real one) had given names of Hydra agents, details of terrorist plots, and concrete proof that SHIELD was under Hydra control in his final testimony. It was the only evidence left. Pierce had died for the information on that drive. As far as Darcy knew, Nat and the boys might have too.

A sob tore loose from Darcy’s throat at the thought. She couldn’t afford to think about that right now. All she could do was watch as Rumlow dropped the flash drive onto the floor and pulled out his pistol. “Wait,” Darcy cried. “Stop, please!”

Brock tsked. “All this fuss over something so small.” Even when he was beating her, Darcy had never seen that much violence in his eyes.

She couldn’t look as Rumlow fired his pistol and shattered the flash drive into a million pieces.

\---

Everything went still and cold and white for a long moment. 

Darcy slumped backward in her chair trying to keep it together. Rumlow, now that his long-sought-after flash drive had been blown to smithereens, seemed to relax. He rolled up his sleeves and even smiled at Darcy as if they were old friends meeting for coffee. 

“It would have been so much easier for you to just hand that over, darling.” Darcy couldn’t stand the condescending tone in his voice. She wanted to punch him, but she’d already rubbed her wrists raw trying to escape the ropes binding her. Brock brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes and Darcy flinched. 

“Now, now Darcy. Don’t look so sad. No sense in blaming yourself. Although, most of this is your fault. I always told you that you destroy everything you touch, didn’t I darling?” Brock chuckled. How had Darcy ever found this snake charming?

 “Really, it was stupid to keep it all on one flash drive,” Brock continued. 

“I agree,” Darcy whispered. Her lips began to twitch.

 “Keeping it all on one drive was stupid. It would have been much easier to upload it online from the start, but I’m sure Euroforce had their own ideas about how it should be used.” Agencies like that always did, whether they were secretly run by terrorists or not.

“Euroforce is fool’s errand. Hydra has its claws in this world deeper than they could ever imagine,” Brock drawled. 

Darcy studied him hatefully in the dim light of the warehouse. She’d yet to see another soul. Whether that meant they were alone here, or simply isolated in a part of a bigger facility, she had no idea. “Why do this, Brock? Why work for Hydra?” 

He was an asshole and abuser, but of the generic kind. Darcy had never heard him use a slur or express an especially bigoted view. Why he was working for neo-nazis, Darcy had no idea.

“Because SHIELD never appreciated my skill set,” Rumlow shrugged. “My career mobility was too limited there. When Pierce turned coat, I saw an opportunity. Now I’m unofficial-- soon to be official-- head of one of the most respected intelligence agencies in the Western hemisphere. Maybe I’ll even turn coat on Hydra and clean up SHIELD after all. I haven’t decided yet.”

“So it’s just greed.” A startled, bitter laugh escaped Darcy. _He’s actually insane,_ she thought. “You did all of this for a promotion? You fucking asshole. You absolute piece of shit.” Darcy had started laughing and she couldn’t stop. 

“Control your mouth, Darcy,” Rumlow warned, “before I control it for you.” But Darcy was past her breaking point.

“Well, too bad for you it’s not going to work out,” Darcy spat. 

Brock frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Euroforce might be all about strategy and keeping things hush hush, but I was a poli-sci major. I know the fastest way to make a corruption scandal explode and that’s to put it on the evening news.” 

A slow look of horror was starting to dawn on Rumlow’s face.

Darcy forged on. “As soon as Natasha told me what was on that flash drive, I knew I had to get it out to the world as soon as possible. Do you know most motels have a computer in the lobby? If you ask nicely enough, sometimes the lady at the front desk will let you use it.” 

Darcy smiled triumphantly when she saw the look on his face. “That’s right, dickwad. What’s it you’re always saying? ‘Welcome to the digital age?’”

Brock strode the few steps between them, wound his hand in Darcy’s hair and _yanked._ “Most of the world doesn’t even know Hydra exists and we are everywhere. Whatever you uploaded, it will be taken down and obliterated before your body goes cold.”  

Rumlow laughed cruelly, tightening his grip in Darcy’s hair. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a whimper as he went on. “Who would believe a nobody like you anyway?”

“I didn’t upload it,” Darcy whispered. “I sent it to my best friend, a world-renowned astrophysicist with connections to various governmental agencies.” Her voice was going stronger with every word. “ _She_ uploaded it and her boyfriend, whose father is the president of a certain Nordic nation that just joined the United Nations, retweeted it.”

Darcy stretched up as far as the rope binding her would allow and stared into Brock Rumlow’s increasingly pale face. “Wanna guess how many twitter followers he has?”

“You bitch,” Brock snarled. A moment later, pain soared through Darcy as he backhanded her hard enough to rock the chair she was tied to. Darcy tasted blood in her mouth. 

She would have laughed if she wasn’t so afraid. “Just like old times, huh?” Darcy wheezed. He hit her again and Darcy’s vision began to spin. All those years she’d wasted with this man, letting him hurt her. Letting him convince her that she deserved it.

And now he was finally going to kill her. 

Rumlow knelt before Darcy, the sadistic smile on his face at odds with the vein throbbing in his forehead. “How about we have one last round of fun, you and I? Huh?” Darcy shuddered as he gripped her chin. She didn’t want to think about what his idea of ‘fun’ was.

Rumlow stood and strode to the tray of terrifying implements Darcy saw earlier. She flinched when he returned with a wickedly sharp looking knife, but he only cut the rope around her arms and legs. 

Darcy collapsed onto the concrete, her appendages burning as the blood returned to them. A hand wrapped almost tenderly around her chin. “What’s the matter, darling? One man isn’t enough for you anymore?”

Darcy spit in his face.

The next second her world exploded into agony. “You bitch,” Rumlow snarled, raining blows down upon Darcy. Pain bloomed inside her skull until there was nothing left inside but fire. 

Maybe it had been a pipe dream to think she could ever escape Alexander or Brock or whoever the fuck he was. Maybe they’d always been destined to destroy one another. 

But as Darcy lunged for the taser Brock had carelessly dropped onto the floor only a few feet away, she figured destiny could go fuck itself. 

As Rumlow’s angry fists arched down towards Darcy for the last time, she thought about the Intro to Mythology Class she’d taken freshman year of college. About the myth of Andromeda: chained to the sacrificial rock as punishment for the actions of others. 

Andromeda had been rescued from her fate by a hero; but despite what Darcy was sure were very valiant efforts, her heroes were nowhere to be found. Without Perseus, Andromeda would have died chained to that rock.

But Darcy was not Andromeda. 

Lightning arched between her fingers and into Brock’s abdomen, sending him careening to the ground. He convulsed on the concrete floor as Darcy yanked the gun out of his holster. Her hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped it. Her forehead was sticky with blood. Rumlow’s blows had broken skin. 

To buy herself more time, Darcy tasered the still prone Rumlow again. She didn’t know if that was safe and she didn’t really care. It could fry his brain for all she cared. All that mattered to Darcy now was getting the hell out of here. 

Only, she didn’t know where here was. She could be in an underground bunker in the middle of nowhere. She could be in another country entirely. Worst case scenario, Rumlow would be on his feet in as little as five minutes. That was if his goons didn’t stumble across Darcy first. 

If she was in some kind of secure Hydra bunker, there was no way out in her condition. Just running through the facility like a chicken with its head cut off wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Think, Darcy. Think!” Darcy whispered. She was holding the gun as far away from her as humanly possible and trying not to look at Brock twitching on the floor. A glint of metal in Brock’s pocket caught her eye. 

Darcy reached out and with a tug, found herself holding Rumlow’s smartphone. It was a Stark Phone, the newest and most expensive model, of course. Darcy wondered if he still had the lingerie photos she’d sent him at the beginning of their relationship stored on it and tried not to throw up. 

Rumlow was too smart to have a fingerprint or facial ID unlock enabled, but he did have the feature that enabled calling without unlocking the phone. Maybe there was some secret agent benefit behind that, but all Darcy cared about was that it might very well save her life.

She needed Euroforce, but Darcy had no idea how to contact them. Steve and Bucky had ditched their phones after Hydra’s first attack, if they were even available to use them. 

Rumlow had told Darcy that all three of them were dead, but could she believe him? Had he done the due diligence of making sure to finish off Darcy’s friends, or simply grabbed Darcy and ran?

Any terrorist worth their salt would have done the former, but Brock was arrogant. Always had been. He made stupid mistakes like pissing off Darcy fucking Lewis.

She had to have hope. There was no other way forward. So, Darcy said a prayer to HaShem for old times sake-- although she’d turned secular years ago-- and dialed Natasha’s number. 

_Ring._

Darcy could barely breathe.

_Ring._

She couldn’t die here. She wouldn’t. 

_Ring._

What would Jane tell her mother if Darcy never came home? As far as she knew, Darcy was still kicking it in the arctic. They’d never even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

 _“_ _Hello? Who is this?”_

Darcy started to sob. 

“Natasha it’s me.”

“My god,” Natasha said. Relief and panic flooded her friend’s voice all at once. Natasha began mumbling rapidly in Russian. Darcy guessed she might be praying. There was a startled murmur in the background, as if she was talking to someone else.“Darcy, where are you? Are you safe?”

“Not q-quite,” Darcy hiccuped. Darcy explained the situation as quickly as she could, keeping her voice down and a wary eye on Rumlow. “I’m going to share my location with you.” To Darcy’s relief, when she checked said location, she was still in Kansas. 

“Nat, please hurry,” Darcy begged. “I don’t know what to do.” Her ribs ached with every staggered inhale.

“Hide Малышка. Keep the gun with you. Do what you need to survive. Help is on the way.” Darcy had never heard so much emotion in Natasha’s voice before. 

“Nat, are the boys--”

“They’re both alive, Darcy.” The noise that left Darcy’s throat was as foreign to her as the Russian Natasha had been speaking earlier. Darcy couldn’t stop crying. She’d never been so relieved.

Natasha went on quickly “Steve’s in the hospital, but he’ll be okay and Bucky…” more murmuring and then, 

“Hold on Doll. We’re coming for you.” Hearing Bucky’s voice nearly caused Darcy’s knees to buckle, but by some miracle she stayed on her feet.

“Bucky, you and Steve need to know that I lo--” 

“No!” Bucky interrupted. Darcy could hear the worry in his voice, and a familiar roar of air that suggested he was inside some kind of vehicle. “You are not saying goodbye to us, Darcy Lewis.”

Darcy shook her head and tried to hold herself together. “Buck, I need to tell you--”

“And you will,” Bucky swore. “When you’re safe in our arms. You’ll tell us then and we’ll tell you back and we’ll get our happy ever after. _You are coming home, doll. I swear to you.”_

“I have to go, Buck. Tell Natasha… I forgive her, but only if she forgives herself.” 

“Darcy--” Natasha’s voice came from far away. 

“Hurry,” Darcy urged and hung up the phone. It was time to take Nat’s advice and hunker down until the cavalry arrived and a big, empty room was not the place to do it. There was a door at the far end, and what it held Darcy could not say. Though it terrified her, she had no other choice but to go through it.

As she ran for the door, Darcy glanced once more at Brock Rumlow. He would be rousing in a few short minutes to send out the red alert that Darcy had escaped. She’d seen this movie before. If she allowed him to come after her, her chances of escape (and survival) were slim. 

The smartest thing to do would be to take the gun Darcy was still clutching and shoot him in the head. He was a terrorist and murderer. He had abused Darcy for years and destroyed the lives of those she loved. Hell, Darcy might even call killing him self defense.

Darcy stopped for just a moment and stared between the pistol in her hand and the monster on the warehouse floor. Had their roles been reversed, Rumlow would have blown her brains out with a second thought.

Darcy Lewis turned and kept running. 

\---

When Darcy burst through the door, she’d hoped to find herself outside. Instead, she careened down a long and dimly lit hallway. Mercifully it was empty, but Darcy could hear the echoes of other people behind some of the many doors. 

 Darcy staggered to a halt, grabbing the door behind her before it could slam shut and slowly easing it closed. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest and her tongue felt like lead in her throat. 

Should she take her chances running down the hallway and hoping that the heavy, steel door at its end led outside the building? Maybe it was safer to step inside one of the nearby doors and look for a place to hide? 

A groan from the room behind her made up Darcy’s mind for her. She couldn’t risk just going in a random door and she had no time to dally in the hallway. She Darcy made her way as quickly and as quietly as she could to the door at the end of the hall. 

Only, Darcy found that there was a padlock on it. Rumlow’s insistence, no doubt. She could almost hear his condescending drawl in her head. “Electronic locks can be hacked. Steel is foolproof.”

Darcy peered underneath the door with a near silent exhale of frustration. She could see what she thought was sunlight. This had to be the way out. Darcy stared down at the gun in her hand. It would immediately give away her position… 

**Skreep. Skreep. Skreep.**

The alarm startled Darcy so much that she nearly shot herself in the foot as red lights began to flash overhead. 

**Skreep. Skreep. Skreep.**

Alarmed shouts echoed behind closed doors, and hinges creaked as hands reached for door handles--

Brock was awake. Darcy blown. Which meant she had nothing to waste. Darcy lifted the gun and, flinching only slightly, shot the padlock off the door. 

As the first Hydra agent exploded into the hallway, Darcy burst into the warm light of the setting sun upon whatever forest Rumlow had dragged her to the middle of. Darcy had no time to bask in her freedom, however. Trying not to accidentally shoot herself in the process, she sprinted into the trees. 

Darcy could hear shouting and commotion behind her. Foliage crackled as bodies flew through it, but Darcy couldn’t tell if it was her of someone else making the sound. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see a shrewd-faced blonde woman in tactical gear advancing on her. 

Gunshots rang out in the distant trees. Branches slapped Darcy’s face like a thousand tiny lashes. She ran faster. So fast that she didn’t notice the branch under her feet until it was too late. 

Darcy fell and fell hard. Pain knocked the breath right out of her, but there was no time to waste on being stunned. Immediately, she scrambled upright.

Darcy was barely on her feet before a hand wound into her hair and _yanked_.

 Darcy gasped, swinging her elbows backward in an attempt to dislodge her assailant. She heard a grunt, but the blonde woman who’d grabbed her kept her hold firm. A moment later, Darcy was thrown into the dirt. 

Her body cried out in protest as a boot came down on her throat. Darcy’s gun was gone, lost among the underbrush. “Stay down, bitch,” the Hydra agent snarled. 

Darcy watched helplessly as the woman pulled a gun from her waistband and pointed it at Darcy’s skull. Darcy was about to die and not even at Rumlow’s hand. She didn’t even know this woman’s name, and she probably didn’t know Darcy’s.

Darcy flinched as the sound of a gunshot registered in her ears. This was the end. 

But as a bullet hole appeared in the middle of her would-be killer’s forehead and Darcy’s own skull remained intact, Darcy’s addled brain tried to puzzle out what had happened. 

 _Someone shot her before she could shoot me,_ Darcy thought dazedly. It was the second death she’d witness and it wasn’t any less terrifying the second time around, homicidal terrorist or not. 

Then the glint of metal in the sunlight caught Darcy’s eye. It wasn’t a gun, but rather a metal arm. “Darcy,” breathed Bucky Barnes, as what Darcy assumed was a Euroforce tactical team surged around him. 

Then Darcy was in his arms. 

\---

It was a long road back to normalcy, although at this point Darcy wasn’t sure that was something she could or should strive for. She was in a polyamorous relationship with two ex-spies, one of her best friends was a former KGB agent, and she’d gone toe-to-toe with an international terrorist organization and won. 

It was time Darcy to find a new definition of normal.

“I still can’t believe everything that’s happened,” she told Steve as she lay crammed inside his hospital bed alongside him. It was against hospital policy, but one glare from Bucky sent any protesting nurses scurrying. “Every time I think I’ve processed everything, I remember something else.”

Steve brushed her hair behind her ear. He’d told her he still had a hard time looking at the healing bruises on Darcy’s face without getting angry. “I can give you something else to think about if you want?” Bucky snickered from his chair beside the bed and Darcy rolled her eyes. 

“You have two broken ribs and a concussion. Your left arm is going to be in a cast for months, Steven Rogers.” Steve only shrugged as if to say: ‘so what?’ Darcy sighed affectionately. “The two of you are impossible. You’re just going to have to keep it in your pants until they discharge you tomorrow.”

It had been four days since Darcy’s rescue and a lot had happened since then. Starting with medical evals by mysterious, name tagless doctors. (Darcy was bruised all over and had a broken rib of her own, but she’d been lucky given all that’d happened). 

Then Darcy was taken to yet another secret base, this one operated by Euroforce. A kind, but serious woman named Maria offered Darcy a cup of coffee and a non-disclosure agreement with a check paperclipped to the bottom. She had only a brief chance to embrace Natasha before she was being whisked into Maria’s office. 

Maria sat down across from Darcy. “The nature of our work is very sensitive, and very important, as I’m sure you gathered. I’m sure you can understand our need for secrecy. You’ll be rewarded for your courageous acts in this matter, and your discretion, of course.”

Darcy studied Maria across the table. She barely knew anything about this woman or about Euroforce in general. She trusted Natasha, but that was about the extent of things. One thing Darcy knew for sure was that the woman across the table was undeniably dangerous. 

The question was, to who?

“What about my friends who posted the documents? What if Hydra comes after them or me?” It wasn’t something Darcy hadn’t even thought about in the heat of the moment but worried about now. 

“Don’t worry, Ms. Lewis. Euroforce protects its allies. You and your friends will be taken care of.” Maria nodded to the paper again “You intend to go public with your story?” Maria asked measuredly, her eyes calculating.

“No,” Darcy sighed. “I’m tired. I want to go home and see my friends. I want to visit one of my boyfriends in the hospital. I have no desire to talk about any of this to anyone. I just want to go back to my life.”

“But--” Maria prompted, sensing Darcy wasn’t finished and lacking the patience for a long pause. Darcy almost smiled. _I have a feeling we’ve got a lot in common._

“But I get the sense that I’ll be seeing more of Euroforce, whether I want to or not, and I would like to start out on equal footing.” Darcy tore up the check. “Can I go now?”

Maria stood, straightening out her pencil skirt. Darcy couldn’t read the emotions beyond her carefully masked eyes, but she got the sense that she’d impressed Maria. “Very well. I’ll call a driver. He’ll take you and Sergeant Barnes anywhere you’d like to go.”

The driver had-- escorting them twenty miles north to the hospital where they’d taken Steve. When she’d seen him alive in that bed, trying to pull the IV out of his arm so he could embrace her, Darcy had broken down crying for about the fifth time that day. 

Darcy and Bucky had been staying in a motel for the past few days, waiting for Steve’s discharge. Following that, Natasha had offered them a flight back to Puente Antiguo. When Darcy asked if the boys were sure about coming with her, they had only scoffed. 

“What are you thinking about, Doll,” Bucky asked, reaching out to take Darcy’s hand in his own. She knew he worried about what she’d experienced in her hours with Rumlow but she’d refused to talk about it with either him or Steve. 

Although they could never compare with what Bucky had gone through, the past few weeks had left a mental toll on Darcy. As soon as she got back home, she was booking a therapist appointment for all three of them. 

“Nothing, Buck,” Darcy reassured. She reached for Steve’s hand and squeezed it too. She couldn’t stop touching them. Thinking she’d lost them had been one of the scariest moments of her life and she knew they felt the same way. “Just wondering if I can say that thing now. The one you said not to until we all made it out safe.”

“What thing,” Steve asked, though his voice was rough with knowing. 

“Bucky Barnes, Steven Rogers,” Darcy’s eyes began to water and _dammit_ she was supposed to be done with crying. “I love you both.”

She didn’t have to wonder what they would say next.

\---

Darcy hadn’t realized how much she missed Puente Antiguo until she stood in the middle of its main street, breathing in the New Mexican dust and the smell wafting out from the bakery.

Seeing Jane and Thor again was what Darcy hadn’t realized she needed until after it happened. All three of them were a mess during the reunion. The only thing that could get Jane to stop crying was to trade approving looks with Darcy when she saw Bucky and Steve. 

Even Clint seemed happy to see her, though Darcy knew he was calculating what the socially acceptable amount of days he had to wait before pranking her was. 

It wasn’t long before Thor, in true Thor fashion, decided to throw a welcome home party for Darcy. As much as she loved a tequila bar full of people she cared about drunk singing karaoke songs, Darcy found herself stepping outside halfway through the celebration for some fresh air.

After everything she’d been through, crowded rooms and chaos unnerved Darcy. She often took time for herself, just to reflect and work on the breathing exercises her therapist was teaching her. 

Darcy was in the middle of a grounding mantra when she heard the door to the bar open behind her. “Out for some fresh air?” Natasha asked. “Mind if I join you?” The two of them sat together on the steps, watching the sun sink lower into the horizon. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Darcy said after a long, comfortable silence. 

“Shoot.”

“This whole thing with Hydra… was there any point to it all? I mean, did that file even hurt them or are they just going to come back with a vengeance?”

Natasha shook her head. “You’ve just aired their dirty laundry to the entire world. Thanks to your video, the United Nations and every law enforcement agency on this side of the Atlantic is breathing down SHIELD’s neck. I’m sure you’ve heard that there’s an official investigation underway. There have already been several arrests.”

Darcy shook her head in disbelief. “Will that be enough? Isn’t Hydra everywhere?”

Natasha’s smile became a little grimmer. “Hydra’s talons are out of SHIELD for good and now that you’ve pulled them into the light, they’ll have a harder time returning to the shadows. But there will be some operatives who will escape the round-up and go dark. We need to round them up as soon as possible, before they have time to regroup.”

Natasha saw Darcy’s face and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to feel guilty for, so don’t even try it. Yes, in an ideal world, Euroforce would be able to use that drive to strategically dismantle Hydra without anyone slipping the net, but it's anyone’s guess if such a thing is even possible. If you hadn’t uploaded the drive when you did, everything would have been lost. You are the beginning of Hydra’s end, malyshka.” 

They sat in thoughtful silence for a few more moments, both sipping their wine and staring out at the dusty desert sunset. “I guess you’ll be leaving New Mexico now that your mission is over?” Darcy asked.

“Most likely,” Natasha replied. “I have some loose ends to tie up here to make sure that my cover isn’t any more blown than it already is. As far as Hydra knows, the Black Widow is dead. I’m going to need a new identity. After that, well, someone needs to hunt down those Hydra operatives.”

Darcy nudged Natasha’s foot with her own. “I’m going to miss you. Janie’s going to be a wreck. She pretends like Science! is all she cares about but she’s a softy underneath those lab goggles.”

Natasha reached for Darcy's hand and squeezed it in her own. “You know, my superiors are quite impressed by you. Your ability to evade both us and Hydra. Escaping from Brock and leaking that drive. The way you run Jane’s lab. Even your transcripts from Culver are impressive.”

Darcy frowned. “How did you get my transcripts?”

Natasha ignored her question. “Euroforce is looking for someone to oversee our American branch. We need someone with high intelligence, who can navigate politics and espionage with tact and precision on top of managing personnel. We think you’d be a good fit for the job. Maria was quite impressed by you.”

Darcy blanched, glancing around the street to confirm that they were still alone. “You want me to be a spy? Are you crazy?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not a spy, a handler of spies. You’d need protection of course. Let’s say, two gorgeous ex-soldiers as personal bodyguards? There’d be quite a lot of traveling for all three of you involved, but the benefits are excellent. Retirement and full pension on your fiftieth birthday. Six-figure salary.”

Darcy’s head was reeling. “I… I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Make no mistake, Darcy. While there is glamour and excitement in this life, it’s also dangerous. It requires a lot of sacrifice. The Darcy Lewis you are not would be no more. I think we could do great things together, but the choice is yours.” Natasha squeezed Darcy’s hand one more time before letting go. 

“You’ve got time to think it over, malyshka. For now, let’s just celebrate making it out of this mess alive.” They toasted to life and friends, then joined their friends inside for a rousing round of karaoke. 

Darcy kept Natasha’s offer in the back of her head as she threw herself into working at the lab, catching up with her friends, and spending time with the men she’d come to love. They’d moved into her small apartment for the time being. And of course, Dutchess came with them. 

The cat was gave them the cold shoulder at first, clearly not happy at being left in a kennel  by herself. But some treats and a lot of attention coaxed her back to her regular, sweet self. Much like Darcy, she was just happy to be home.

 After a month back in Puente Antiguo, Darcy took a trip home to visit her mother and brought the boys with her. Darcy’s mother was a little hesitant when Darcy told her that she was dating two men at once, but was utterly delighted by both Steve and Bucky once she’d met them. 

During dinner one night, Darcy’s mom casually asked Bucky when he was going to propose to her and Steve. Darcy choked on her apple pie and pretended not to see Steve laughing while he pounded her on the back. 

Darcy talked to the boys often about Natasha’s vision for their future. She wasn’t sure they’d even be interested in returning to a life like that, especially Bucky. Maybe they’d prefer to open a mechanic shop in Puente Antiguo and Darcy could stay as lab manager, and they’d live a quiet life full of love. 

To Darcy’s surprise, her boyfriends seemed up for anything. “As long as we’re together, doll,” Bucky told her one night as the three of them made love under the stars, “I don’t care where we go.”

Just being with them didn’t chase away the demons of Darcy’s past. She still flinched at loud noises and kept an emergency go-bag under her bed. Sometimes she doubted if she was worthy of a happy ending. 

Her boyfriends had their own baggage to deal with, too. Bucky still had nightmares and Darcy could see the worry in Steve’s eyes every time he looked at her. He was terrified of failing to protect them. Of not being worthy of their love. Which she and Bucky both told him, (emphatically), was ridiculous. 

What mattered was that they were working through things together.

No, Darcy couldn’t count on her boyfriends to magically “fix” her, but maybe she needed to stop thinking of herself as broken. Recovering from trauma, maybe, but she was working on it. What Darcy did know was that she wasn’t alone in the fight anymore. Friends were all around her, her future was brighter than ever, and Darcy had her boys at her side, just like she was at there’s.

It was hard to imagine that all of this had started with a faulty car part. Darcy had no idea what would have become of her if Mew Mew hadn’t died on the side of that Nevada highway three months ago. She was glad she’d never have to find out.

The path to this point may have been painful and fraught with disaster, but the search was over now. Darcy had paid her toll to Charon. She’d stared Hades in the eyes and emerged victorious She’d even slain the beast called Hydra, or at least one of its many heads. 

All that was left for her now, for all of them, was Paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's officially the end. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and coming along on this journey with me. This is now officially the longest fanfiction I've ever written (by a long shot) and one of my favorites too. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope you all enjoyed it as I much as I have. 
> 
> I appreciate you all so much and I hope you all find Elyisum (whatever that looks like for you) someday soon.


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